


Stolen Moments, Shared Gazes

by Kaoru_chibimaster



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, World of Ruin (Final Fantasy), World of Ruin Big Bang (Final Fantasy XV), canon ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:27:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29565393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoru_chibimaster/pseuds/Kaoru_chibimaster
Summary: “What is this?”“This will be your sanctuary, O’ King of Kings.”The world is in ruins, the daemons thrive, and the Usurper sits pretty on his throne of blood. Noctis has only found peace in his crystal prison, and though he expected to sleep, it seems Bahamut intended for him to train and to grow. To his surprise, however, a familiar face—a soul trapped in the crystal—is there to help him every step of the way.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Nyx Ulric
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19
Collections: World of Ruin Big Bang





	1. Noctem

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2021 World of Ruin Big Bang. Lovely cover art by [@zoebittnerart](https://twitter.com/zoebittnerart)

**_ Noctem _ **

~o~

It was endless, this darkness.

Endless and dragging and _painful_ ; a stab to the heart, even.

How bleak, he thought, that he might spend years sleeping in an utter abyss. If he’d even get the chance to sleep, that is. He thought that he might, considering there was nothing else to do in this black expanse, but sleep did not come to him. Nothing came to him. It was as if the emptiness around him had penetrated him, filling him up with it until he was just as shapeless and lifeless as his resting place.

There was no peace in this. Noctis suffered the memory over and over again, a constant reminder that appeared behind his eyelids as the back of Ardyn’s head, or so deep in his ears that he could feel the vibrations in his skull when the sounds of his own screams played back to him. The voices of his friends echoing to him as he struggled to reach out to them. The ultimatum that the Draconian had presented. All of it flashed through Noctis’ mind in a series, a slideshow, that tormented him with each blink. That carefree attitude he’d had when he first started his journey, that focused determination that had been all but ripped out of him after Insomnia’s invasion, that deep connection with his friends that fueled every step forward… All of it was gone, in the blink of an eye. He’d never get that back. He was going to sleep to die. He’d be waking up to die. He’d never even get to see the sunrise he was dying for.

Just the thought of such a fate had his eyes squeezing shut tight. It was childish logic, the idea that closing his eyes to the bad things would make them go away, but he was swimming too deep in his own dread to care. If he couldn’t see, then maybe he couldn’t feel either? Maybe he couldn’t hear, or taste, or smell. Maybe all sense of self would be lost to him and he could spend however long this would take not having to exist.

Maybe that’d make it go faster.

Knowing his luck though, Bahamut was unlikely to allow Noctis to drift like that. He’d given Noctis this time to reflect, after all, and clearly that was what he expected Noctis to do. That wasn’t exactly an easy task if Noctis’ mind was closed off from everything.

Point proven when his feet touched solid ground, body settling into an upright position as gravity re-established itself, and leg aching at the sudden extra pressure. Noctis took note of the fact that there was a warmth on his skin and a breeze through his hair. It felt a bit unnatural, in fact. As if it was fabricated, like he was standing under a spotlight in a room with only a fan for air circulation.

Curiosity tugged too firmly at the back of his mind, and his eyes blinked open, unexpectedly, to dim sunlight. What he saw was… It was…

“What is this?” he trailed off, squinting at his surroundings in utter confusion. He was standing in front of the Citadel. Or, at least, a pale imitation of it.

“This will be your sanctuary, O’ King of Kings.”

Noctis jumped as the boom of Bahamut’s voice echoed in his head.

It wasn’t one he was too keen on hearing again.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to keep me company this whole time,” Noctis grumbled under his breath, though he had a feeling the invasive god could hear him anyway, before adding in a louder, questioning tone, “What do you mean ‘sanctuary’?”

“You cannot grow as a king, nor as a man, if locked in perpetual slumber. I shall grant you familiar holdings and the comfort of peace. In exchange—”

The answer came to Noctis before Bahamut even finished speaking, plain as day. Noctis had no need for a tangible sanctuary in which he could wander. He had no reason, save for one.

“You expect me to train.”

It…made sense. Bahamut did have a point in that Noctis wouldn’t grow much if he just spent however long sleeping. He was in this until the end, like it or not, so he might as well do this the right way and prepare himself. Ardyn was not going to hold back next they meet.

And neither was Noctis.

“Fine, then.” What else could he do, after all? Refuse? He doubted the crystal’s resident Bladekeeper would take no for an answer.

Though Noctis wasn’t sure how much “growing” he could achieve by himself, locked up in a magical rock for who knew how long.

“Don’t I at least get some company?” he added petulantly. It wasn’t a serious inquiry as there would have been no one else to keep him company in the crystal anyway, but he couldn’t help throwing it out there if only for the sake of being a smartass. He wasn’t very happy with how things were turning out so far.

He figured he had a damn good reason not to be, too.

“Worry ye not, Chosen King. If it is company you wish, so it shall come,” was Bahamut’s very unexpected response. Unexpected and…amused?

Ha. And here Noctis thought only human suffering amused the Astrals. It certainly came across that way, especially nowadays. After all, they were the ones who stuck the one person who could actually use the crystal’s power against the daemons in a rock without warning, or even so much as a reassuring pat on the back.

No ‘ya did good, Noct’ or ‘we’ll take it from here’. Nothing but this fake, dreary Citadel and a God of War lingering in his headspace. All while the people of Eos suffered an eternal night.

Wait—what was that he said about company coming? He couldn’t have meant himself; he was already here, bugging Noctis.

“What do you mean ‘so it shall come’?” he asked, wary of whatever else it was Bahamut had planned. Noctis wasn’t sure he could take any more surprises.

“Go forth.”

That was it. That was all Bahamut had to say before disappearing, voice and presence, completely from Noctis’ mind.

Big help that was.

Groaning, Noctis complied and started to walk the path of asphalt leading up to the entrance. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the courtyard, accompanied by the squeal of the gates shutting behind him. All background noise compared to the buzz of activity in his thoughts.

Who was this company that Bahamut mentioned? It couldn’t have been his friends. Gods, he hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle the thought of trapping Ignis, Prompto or Gladio in here, robbing them of a chance to continue to grow and experience as well.

Though another, far more selfish part of him hoped it was them. It meant they’d be safe and close, and Noctis would have friends in his crystal prison.

He tried to bury that thought. As much as he wanted them here with him, the world needed them more than he did. And their purpose in life wasn’t to constantly hold Noctis’ hand. He’d have to learn to get on without them.

Instead he was stuck with a near silent Citadel, almost eerily so. It almost weighed on him physically, the bleak emptiness of the building. The courtyard had been the brightest source of light, despite the distorted greyish blue of the sky, and as the doors closed behind him, Noctis found himself in the dim lighting of the foyer. A little warmer, with its artificial soft yellow glow, but still dark enough to make a place that had once felt so familiar to Noctis come across as…downright creepy.

His footsteps echoed loudly as he started to wander, peering around at every shadow, every corner, grimacing at how sapped of life everything seemed to be. It was as if he was walking amongst the halls of a haunted castle.

He wondered when the ghosts would emerge.

It was a funny, thoughtless thing that crossed his mind. A silent quip that earned a half-amused smirk as he shuffled onto the elevator, pressing the button for the floor to the training hall. If training was what Bahamut wanted, then that was the best place to start, after all. Still, Noctis doubted he’d really have the company Bahamut hinted at. Who else would even be here? Maybe the Astral King thought that Noctis might spend his training period talking to the flowers in the gardens.

He wouldn’t be surprised if that _was_ Bahamut’s thought process, actually. Gods were strange, incomprehensible beings.

Unfortunately for him, and probably more so for Noctis, there were no flowers in the training hall. It was as intimidating as ever, standing tall and wide in the center of the Citadel. Illuminated only by the light of a dreary sky streaming through ceiling length windows, leaving it almost distressingly void of color. Black may have denoted royalty, but here in an empty castle with no voices or footsteps or familiar faces to provide life to the place, it only served to send disturbed shivers down Noctis’ spine and goosebumps over his arms.

“You know…”

Surprise and adrenaline flowed through Noctis’ veins, causing his heart to skip a beat and locking his muscles. Fingers twitching with the urge to summon a weapon. He hadn’t expected to hear a voice that didn’t belong to him in here. Especially not from behind him when he was so certain he was completely alone as he walked those halls. Yet something about that voice, as much as it surprised the hell out of him, caused him to pause. Something about it was familiar enough that he knew it didn’t belong to a threat.

“Most people don’t enjoy being completely ignored, Your Highness. Or, well… I guess it’s _Your Majesty_ now, isn’t it?” that voice continued, amused and confident. Bringing with it a wealth of memories. Of warmer, longer days. Carefree days. Days where Noctis’ biggest concerns were learning how to run a kingdom, and even that wasn’t so intense. Not with how his father often doted on him.

Likely because he knew this was how Noctis would meet his end.

Damn, that was depressing to think. Noctis didn’t even want to dwell on it. Didn’t want to let those feelings bubbling up inside him spill over the surface. That was better reserved for when he’d meet his father again. Someday in the After.

In the now, Noctis found himself focusing on the man behind him, turning to face him fully. Unsure what to make of the sight before him when he did. How was…?

“You’re…” Noctis squinted at him, taking in every detail. From the stitch of his clothing to the gleam of his armor. From the warm, tan glow of his skin to the attractive stubble. From the mishmash of scars that adorned his body to the easy, carefree smile that adorned his face. Noctis knew this man; perhaps more closely than he should have. Noctis knew him from flirty smiles and carefree car rides. From braids and kukri and a cocky glint in his eye. From fierce loyalty and incredible strength. There were some additions to him that Noctis had never seen, and his gaze trailed over the notable white burns that looked eerily similar to the scarring around Ignis’ eyes, but they didn’t mar the overall picture. It was a welcome one, despite the surprise.

“…Nyx Ulric?”

It’d been too long. More than that, even.

Noctis didn’t think he’d ever see this man again. He didn’t think he’d ever see that _smile_ again, but it warmed his heart every time, without fail. Even now.

“Long time no see.”

~o~

**_ Amici _ **

~o~

The ringing sounds of metal clashing echoed through the crownsguard training hall, joined by the explosive thrum of magic and the accompanying acrid smell of sparks and smoke that stifled the air. It’d become a habit in the few days Noctis had been at this faux Citadel, practicing with Nyx Ulric (as well as varying other crownsguard, but they didn’t hold his attention nearly as well) in order to keep up his fighting skills. He’d need to be a hundred times better than he currently was if he wished to fight Ardyn on equal footing.

Which is why, he imagined, Bahamut gave him this instead of making him sleep as he’d first thought.

It was an interesting predicament when he thought about it. The souls of those connected to the crystal, not counting the Lucii of course, trapped inside the crystal until Noctis’ defeat of the Usurper freed them. It’d brought to life this odd, twisted version of the Citadel, funnily enough. Voices had started to ring from top to bottom as these souls awoke to the sounds of Noctis exploring the Citadel. From past kings to council and noblemen to kingsglaive, souls touched by the crystal lingered here, going about their business as if they were still alive.

It was as intriguing as it was depressing, actually. They deserved to move on like anyone else. Yet another reason to be upset at the gods, he supposed.

But it did give him this: the chance to interact and learn and grow. To not only improve his fighting skills, but to flourish as a person. He’d spent enough of his life being The Prince. Here in this crystal haven, he got to be Just Noct. It was nice.

Especially with his current training partner. He’d been more than willing to humor Noctis, and Noctis was drawn to him as a result. With Nyx, he wasn’t royalty to be groveled to. He was just another sparring buddy.

“So, you’ve been stuck here how long?” Noctis grunted, one hand gripped around his sword handle as the other pressed against the flat side of the blade. He knew better than to push too hard, lest Nyx step out of the way and Noctis send himself flying with his own force.

“How long had you been on your bachelor party road trip?” Nyx asked, voice noticeably less fatigued. In fact, everything about him was trained patience and built stamina. It’d be impressive if he didn’t feel the need to snark every other sentence.

“The engagement was called off, like, a day after I left. Don’t try and tell me you’ve been here since almost day one.” Unfortunately for Nyx, Noctis gave as good as he got.

“Can’t you tell by my dashing good looks? I haven’t been zombified yet, at least,” Nyx snorted, pulling back before aiming a jab at Noctis’ sternum. It was swiftly dodged in a blue flash of sparks.

Unfortunately, being a kingsglaive, Nyx knew how Noctis’ dodging worked. He’d followed up with a toss of his other kukri right in the spot Noctis had dodged to, and Noctis nearly threw his back out when he dropped to the ground to avoid it. He didn’t know if he could die in the crystal, and he didn’t want to find out the hard way.

Regrettably, though, maneuvers like that were more trouble than they were worth for him thanks to his bad leg.

“Fuck,” slipped out of his mouth between clenched teeth as a searing pain shot up the length of his left leg and he barely caught himself. A brief break, as Nyx was still on the offensive, making quick strikes and warping to each throw of his kukri. He was an overwhelming fighter, but Noctis was too stubborn to call it quits over something as simple as an aggressive fighting style. It wasn’t like Gladio went any easier on him.

The pain in his leg was pushed to the back of his mind as he focused on dodges and parries. His best bet was to let Nyx run out of stamina from his constant warp striking, and Noctis knew better than to tire himself out by trying to do the same. Of course, Nyx was probably counting on this, which would explain why each attack was so relentless. They were swift slashes aimed at vital points, meant to disorient and overwhelm. Nyx was banking on Noctis slipping up before his own stamina ran out.

Noctis was patient, though. Much more so than he used to be.

It was a mantra in his mind: watch the enemy’s movement’s, spend as little energy as possible, retaliate when an opening was presented. Nyx was far too advanced a fighter, and far too savvy to Noctis’ fighting style, to allow himself any openings, and so the only option left was to let him tire himself out without Noctis getting tired first.

His journey with his friends was a blessing. A few months ago, he’d have never been able to hold out like this. Now it was simply a matter of watching his breathing and his footing and making sure that Nyx’s weapons never got too close. Nicks and bruises tended to add up, even if they weren’t much of a hassle on their own. But Noctis didn’t exactly need to be in _more_ pain.

“You’re slowing down, Majesty,” Nyx huffed, grinning through the exertion as he aimed a kick at Noctis’ legs and a knife at his throat in quick succession. Noctis threw himself backwards in a flurry of blue sparks.

“You’re bluffing, Hero. Call me Noct, by the way.”

They hadn’t exactly been the best of friends back before, well… _everything_ , but there’d been a familiarity earned between them that made titles extraneous. Besides, between the odd bouts of flirting and their current training sessions, they’d gained more than just respect for one another. Noctis couldn’t speak for Nyx, but he’d certainly become a lot more comfortable around the Glaive.

“Only if you call me Nyx.” The pair of kukri were tossed at Noctis then, and he hopped out of the path of the attempted warp strike. “I’m not bluffing, _by the way_.”

“Then why are _you_ the one slowing down?” Noctis snorted. His quip earned a rapid barrage of kicks and swipes, almost like watching a dance unfold, and Noctis was forced to start blocking strikes with his sword. They’d made it a rule to stay on even footing, so switching his weapon was out. No shields, no spells, no royal weapons. It was all on Noct.

It’d made sparring more fun, at least. Even if it’d increased the difficulty tenfold.

“Your swordplay’s improved,” he grinned, earning an eyeroll from Noctis and a retaliating slash aimed at his knees during a brief respite in Nyx’s attack. It was parried easily.

In Noctis’ defense, he wasn’t serious about switching to the offensive. Not yet. He wanted to see how long he could keep this up.

“I would hope it did or else I’d be a shit swordsman.”

“Or a slow learner, maybe? There are people who just need a little more time to get the hang of it,” Nyx offered with a shrug. This time he grunted with effort as he blocked Noctis’ blow.

“Don’t insult me.” It wasn’t that Noctis was unaware that some people needed more time and patience than others. He just wasn’t one of them. He knew Nyx knew that too, which meant that he was just being a dick.

Patience, though. It’d do Noctis no good to get riled up over a petty insult. Besides, it was clear that even in this crystal prison, the souls functioned the way they did in life. There was a warmth to their skin, a glow to their cheeks, a gleam to their eyes. Their hearts beat even if they pumped no blood. Their muscles strained and their bodies fatigued just as before they died. Though trapped here, unable to move on, these specters got to live out the time that had been robbed from them. Even if it didn’t technically count as living.

So Noctis’ plan would work. Eventually.

As long as he didn’t slip up.

“It wasn’t an insult, Majesty. Just an observation.”

“Bullshit,” Noctis snorted. “And I said call me Noc—”

Noctis was cut off with a grunt of effort as he attempted to block a swipe that aimed right at an opening he’d left in his protest. Unfortunately, he was a bit too slow. Though he narrowly avoided getting sliced across the chest, his grip hadn’t been quite as firm on his weapon due to his distraction, and he was easily disarmed.

Groaning in annoyance, Noctis slumped in defeat as Nyx held his kukri to Noctis’ neck, cocky grin adorning his face.

“I believe I won this one, _Noct_ ,” he grinned.

“That was cheap.”

“You think your good buddy Chancellor Izunia will be any more fair?”

It was a good point… One Noctis couldn’t exactly refute either. Tch, damn. Noctis couldn’t help kicking at the ground petulantly as Nyx’s words set in. Ardyn was likely to be even more ruthless, and Noctis couldn’t afford to slip up with him. It’d cost him more than just a hurt pride.

“Go again?” Noctis offered, summoning his weapon back to his hand and assuming a fighting stance once more. He’d get nowhere giving up at every loss.

“So soon? Randy little thing, aren’t ya?”

Noctis’ entire face flushed warm as the implications behind Nyx’s words registered to him. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle a little innuendo, but that had caught him off guard and he was already running hot from all the movement.

Nyx, grinning, knocked his sword away again, meeting no resistance whatsoever.

“That’s two for me.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Is that why you like me so much?”

By the Star, this man was infuriating. Noctis reached over and pushed at his shoulder, rolling his eyes.

“Knock it off,” he huffed. It was clearly a distraction tactic at this point and Noctis refused to fall for it anymore. Though it’d help if Nyx would keep his mouth shut. Not even Noctis’ friends quipped at him this much when they sparred.

Then again, their dirty jokes had never been directed _at_ him.

“Fine, fine,” Nyx agreed, shrugging easily. That dumb, irritatingly attractive smirk was still on his face. Noctis wished he could wipe it away with his mind alone.

Hell, maybe he could? He didn’t know all the crystal’s abilities.

Really, _really_ didn’t…

Huh.

“What’s up?” Nyx paused in the middle of whatever cocky spiel he was about to go on, instead watching Noctis with an intrigued quirk of his brow. Likely catching on to the pause in Noctis’ determination and the fact that he hadn’t summoned his weapon once more. “You’ve got this weird look on your face.”

The observation was unnecessary. Noctis grimaced at him before answering.

“It just occurred to me how one-track-minded I’ve been the past few days.”

After all, as much as it annoyed him to even think, let alone hear, Noctis was indeed the King of Kings. He was chosen to be the best of the best. What good was he filling that role if he had no clue how to use the greatest tool at his disposal. All the power of the crystal was meant to be his. Best he learned how to wield its conduit then.

“I can’t just practice with swords, you know,” Noctis sighed, peering down eyeing the Ring with distain. It sat innocently on his finger, a cold and heavy reminder of Noctis’ duty as King.

“You sure as hell ain’t using that on me,” Nyx sniffed, outright glaring at the apparently offending adornment. “I’ve had enough of that thing.”

Go figure. No one would want much to do with the thing that killed them. It’d been a bit mind-blowing when Noctis learned of this, but he supposed he understood. He was nothing but grateful to Nyx for defending Noctis’ city the way he did, but in the end, as with anyone of “unworthy” blood who used the Ring, it cost him his own life.

It was no wonder then that Noctis often caught him throwing glowering looks at it.

“Of course I’m not using it on you. I’ll find a training dummy or something. I just want to get the hang of it.”

Ring magic was…disturbing, to say the least. Noctis knew in theory how it worked; a simple exchange of power. Life force for magic beyond comprehension. It could drain the life out of another, exercise daemons in a flash of holy light, erase something from existence. Barricade an entire kingdom.

In practice, it wasn’t quite so easy to master. He’d fumbled with it all the way through the halls of Zegnautus and hadn’t had much of a chance to try it out since. It was like having hooks lodged into his innards before each organ was slowly dragged out of him. Air refused to enter his lungs, blood rushed in uneven pumps, his skin crawled to the point where he wanted to rake his nails over it until he was raw and bleeding. Using the Ring of the Lucii was like being subjected to slow, unending torture.

But it made him _powerful_. More powerful than he’d _ever_ achieve on his own, even if he trained for a few centuries. No known spell could wipe a being from existence save for the one the Ring produced. None of the spells the Ring produced were possible to achieve without it. It was no wonder one had to be deemed worthy to even wear it without being burned to a crisp. To have that sort of power at one’s fingertips was more than a little overwhelming.

Noctis hated the thing with a burning passion, but…

It was his birthright. And he had to master it if he had even a glimmer of hope of triumphing.

“Alright, well…” Nyx sighed, hands on his hips as he watched Noctis with wary eyes and a guarded frown. “If that’s what you need to do. Go for it.”

Right…

Strangely, apprehension hit Noctis as he stared at the Ring, digging deep within himself to find the will to actually activate it. It was a strange, nagging feeling. A voice in the back of his mind telling him no.

He found, as the gleam of holy magic radiated over his skin, that he should’ve listened.

It wasn’t the burning demise that those unworthy found themselves subjected to. It wasn’t even so adverse a reaction that Noctis had to doubt his ability to use the Ring. There were no flames of righteous fury or Lucii bearing down on him. But the stabbing, almost numbing pain that raced through his hand and up the length of his arm was far from worth the attempted spell. It was as if he’d stuck his arm in a container of red-hot needles. Searing in a way that sent tears to the corners of his eyes, even after the spell fizzled out.

“Shit!” he gasped, clutching at his throbbing fingers with a shaky hand. Teeth gritted so hard that they started to pulse with tiny sparks of pain in tandem.

“Whoa, what just happened?” Nyx had asked, but it was background noise as Noctis’ heartbeat thrummed in his ears. A watery glance down affirmed that his skin had started to turn an ugly, charred black marred only by a number of bright red veins. The pain that had creeped over every nerve ending was bordering on unbearable and Noctis had barely even noticed he was holding his breath in response.

He’d only just caught Nyx’s repeated inquiry when he sucked in a lungful of air.

“Noct, talk to me. What’s wrong…” The question tapered off and Noctis peeked up to see that Nyx was beside him now, his line of sight lowered to the mess that was his hand.

“What the hell? Did the ring do this?” he murmured, brow knitted tightly while warm palms gingerly slid over every burn. Noctis couldn’t quite hide his flinch.

“Whoa—shit, sorry! I didn’t—”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just…”

The Ring had never done this before. It’d always had an effect on Noctis, at least for the small amount of time he’d been using it, but it’d never burned him like this. It’d never sent waves of searing pain over his hand and up the length of his arm until it finally started to wane around his elbow. It’d never felt like he’d poured fire in his veins.

“What the hell just happened?” Noctis asked himself. It wasn’t a question he expected Nyx to have an answer to, but Nyx had shrugged anyway.

“You tell me. I thought it was supposed to respond nicely to the royal family.”

“It did, back when…”

Back when Noctis had been in the real world. Not stuck in this blue facsimile. Back when Noctis had control of his actions, his decisions, his fate. Or at least thought that he did…

Still, the fact that he was here now and the Ring suddenly wasn’t “responding nicely” was telling.

“Is it because I’m in the crystal?” How strange. Did the crystal disagree with Ring Magic? That seemed a bit counterintuitive.

“If that’s the case then maybe you should hold off practicing until you’re back outside.”

“Yeah, I guess…” There’d be plenty of daemons to try it out on, after all. It was a shame he couldn’t use it here, but Noctis couldn’t quite deny that a part of him was grateful for it.

He was far from a fan of it.

“Here,” Nyx said, holding out his hand. Noctis hadn’t even realized he’d fallen to his knees, so caught up in the pain in his arm, but he took the offered hand without a second thought. His grip was tight with the effort it took to stand, but he’d had enough lessons ingrained in him to know better than to remain on his knees before anyone that wasn’t a deity. Ha. Even now, when royal status was a moot point, old habits die hard.

“What’re we doing? Still sparring?” he asked, slow to pull his hand away as he took note of the warmth emanating from Nyx’s gloves.

“Hell no. You’re going to take a rest and I’m going to take a nap. We’ve been going at it pretty hard today, so I think we both earned it.”

“Why do I feel like there was another innuendo in there?”

Nyx poked Noctis in the forehead, grinning lightly.

“That’s in your head, Prince Horny. Take your twenty-year-old hormones and go to bed.”

“It’s rude to poke royalty,” Noctis snorted, pushing Nyx’s hand away. “And you were the one who always came onto me.”

With that, he turned on his heel and hoped to make at least an impressionable exit. It was ruined when Nyx shouted after him.

“You liked it!”

~o~

**_ Aedificare _ **

~o~

“So, you ever notice something weird?” Noctis asked.

“It’s literally my job to notice weird things, Noct.”

Smartass.

“I’m gonna outlaw your snippy attitude in a hot minute.”

All this earned from Nyx was a loud, derisive snort.

“You’re welcome to try. What was that weird thing you noticed?”

Because of course he would change the subject just as he caught Noctis opening his mouth to argue. Whatever, jerk.

Back to the topic at hand.

“Everyone connected to the crystal, not counting the Lucii of course, is supposed to be trapped in here, right?”

“Right.”

“That means kingsglaive, crownsguard, council members, past kings…right?”

“Uh…” Nyx trailed off, raising an eyebrow at Noctis as he tried to puzzle through what he was getting at. It was about midday and neither of them had been up to much, having taken a break from training, so they’d taken the time to wander the Citadel halls, taking in their washed out attempt at splendor. It meant conversation had become their pastime, and Noctis had grown comfortable enough around Nyx to engage. Of course, this meant that Nyx was subjected to whatever whimsical topic happened to cross Noctis’ mind at any given moment. “I suppose.”

“So why are there people missing?” Not that this particularly subject was completely whimsical. In the long run, it probably didn’t matter all too much. Regardless of where their souls went, anyone currently residing in this faux Citadel who was connected to the crystal was still dead. In the moment, however? Noctis couldn’t help but to inquire.

“Missing? What do you mean?”

“A good chunk of the crownsguard are missing. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of Clarus. Granted, I don’t know for certain that he’s dead but there’s no way in hell he’d have let my dad go down if he was still standing.”

“…True.” Nyx seemed a bit uncomfortable with the topic, though he didn’t tell Noctis to stop. Still, Noctis would tread a bit lighter. He’d made peace with his father’s death, had known it would come prematurely all his life and was only caught off guard when the news hit that it’d been caused by Niflheim rather than the Ring. Others might not have taken it so easily, however. Especially ones like Nyx who lived their lives in service to Noctis’ dad.

“Haven’t seen a number of the other high-ranking crownsguard around here either.” A few mid-ranked members hung around the castle grounds, idling as they didn’t know what to do with themselves now that they were dead and…there wasn’t much of a throne to protect. Low-ranked members never had access to the crystal’s power in the first place. “I know this could mean some of them are alive, but I doubt _all_ of them are. Between Insomnia’s destruction and the Empire’s subsequent witch hunts, at least some of them should’ve shown up here.”

There was more to it too. Past kings who weren’t a part of the Lucii lingered in the Citadel with small security details, most being their own personal guards, and little to no family to surround them. Council members who’d recently lost their lives dotted the castle grounds, but members of the nobility that were close to the royal family and had access to the crystal’s power were few and far between. There was no guarantee that the ones missing were still alive, either. Not when the ones that were there had confirmed that a few of the missing nobles had indeed died in the attack on Insomnia. Noctis hadn’t even…

Hadn’t even seen his mother…

He wondered what made the difference. Was it the strength of one’s connection to the crystal’s power? The crownsguard had less of a connection to it than the nobility, and they in turn had less of a connection to it than the council, yet in all of their cases there seemed to be no discrimination in who was present and who was not. The kingsglaive fed off of the king’s powers directly, making them resonate with the crystal almost as perfectly as one of royal blood would. Of course, this was all a moot point with no king as the go-between, but their souls had bonded to the crystal nonetheless. And from what it looked like, nearly all of the kingsglaive were accounted for in the crystal. Most of them avoided Noctis like the plague, and Nyx even more so, but Noctis had seen them around, nonetheless. All save for one very notable exception.

“How come I haven’t seen Drautos here?”

It was an innocent question…

And Noctis couldn’t help but notice how it made Nyx clam up. His face turned pale, as white as the scars that adorned it, his jaw clenching as tight as his fists were balled up, and he looked away when he realized he’d worn every emotion he was feeling on his sleeve just then.

How odd.

“He, uh. He never used the king’s magic. Probably had too weak a connection to the crystal to end up here. Most likely just passed on.”

Noctis was tempted to ask what it was Nyx was hiding, because he knew there was _something_. No one got that weird over boring news.

Still, these days boring news was good news. Noctis wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was that Nyx wasn’t saying. Besides, he knew about the coup against the crown that a sizable chunk of the kingsglaive committed, because all those unfortunate bastards had ended up in this Hell too, so it wasn’t difficult to start putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Noctis didn’t want to connect those dots, honestly. He didn’t like the conclusion they ended up at.

“Huh. I guess he did,” Noctis agreed as nonchalantly as possible, shrugging a shoulder half-heartedly before deciding to change the subject. No need in dwelling on unchangeable past events. It never helped anyone anyway.

“Uh huh. That _was_ a weird subject, by the way,” Nyx so graciously added.

“Yes, I know. I said that.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

He seemed to get a kick out of the annoyed grimace Noctis shot him.

“Just ‘cause you’re cute enough to pull off the puppy pouts doesn’t mean they’ll work on me,” Nyx laughed, dodging when Noctis swiped at him in reprimand. He wasn’t trying to be cute, he was…

Wait.

That was a familiar tone, and Noctis was grateful that he’d gotten so used to it that he could pick up on it in an instant. He was never good with this sort of thing when it came to other people. With Nyx, however, it’d become as natural as breathing.

“You flirting with me, Hero?” he grinned, amused and more than glad for the sense of normalcy Nyx brought about. It was almost funny how easily they fell into this role. The prince and his father’s glaive. How scandalous.

“Hell yeah I am. You ever looked in a mirror? Who _wouldn’t_ flirt with you?”

Right, because just anyone would scrounge up the courage to even talk to the prince of Lucis, let alone flirt with him. Honestly, even the few who did rarely ever meant much of anything by it.

“I could never tell if you were serious. Didn’t have much of a chance to ask either,” Noctis shrugged. His very few, very brief interactions with Nyx, while fun, were never anything more serious than some goofy pickup lines and suggestive winks. Noctis never pushed for it to be more serious than that either. Nyx was fighting a war, after all, and Noctis…

Noctis never really had a choice with much of anything in his life. He’d long known his marriage would be arranged to a competent, capable Lucian noblewoman with a will strong enough to be tied to the crystal and sturdy enough to handle her husband likely dying decades before he was meant to. If she lived that long, what with how dangerous it was to be connected to the crown. Noctis’ own mother had, unfortunately, learned that the hard way. Along with just about everyone else he’d ever gotten close to.

The idea of courting Nyx had been almost ludicrous when Noctis really considered it. Too much would’ve been working against him. Back then, at least.

Now?

Now he wasn’t sure. Now he was leaning a little more towards “yes”.

“And if I was serious? What would you do?” Nyx asked, leaning against the wall casually. Foot tapping lightly, fingers curled tight, gaze far off. He was trying a little too hard to look like he didn’t care if he was rejected.

Noctis certainly hadn’t thought he’d care that much. Not until now.

“If I said ‘no’, what would _you_ do?”

Shrugging, Nyx pushed off from the wall and sighed his acceptance.

“Eh. You can’t win ‘em all—”

“I didn’t.”

“…Huh?”

Exasperated eyes rolled as Noctis placed his hands on his hips, shooting a bland look at Nyx.

“I didn’t say ‘no’. I just wanted to know what you’d do.”

“Is this what I’m gonna have to put up with if you say yes?” Nyx snorted. His posture had relaxed some, shoulders sagging a bit with relief as he leaned back against the wall. An odd question to ask when he seemed so happy about that possible “yes”.

“If you’re serious about me?” Noctis grinned a bit at the thought. “Yes.”

Nyx asked what Noctis would do if he was serious about asking him out. Well, hopefully he just answered that.

Judging by the smile he’d earned in return, he was sure Nyx got the memo.

“Alright then, Your Majesty. Go on a date with me.”

Eugh.

“As long as you don’t call me ‘Your Majesty’.”

“Fine then, Little King—”

“That’s not better.”

“—let me prove to you how serious I am. No jokes, no fleeting dalliances, nothing casual. I know we’re, uh, not in the best position to make much of it, but we’ve got time. Plenty of it, from the look of things. Let’s enjoy in death what we had no chance to in life.”

How serious a proclamation. How…attractive. Noctis wasn’t dead yet, but he knew he would be not long after leaving this place. Beyond that, time was immeasurable in the afterlife. It didn’t exist until one was born again. Noctis hoped that if his soul returned to the land of the living, it would be under better circumstances. He hoped that for everyone he knew and loved. He hoped he’d meet Nyx again, and they’d be two regular guys. Not the prince and the hero. Not the Savior King and the Martyred Glaive. Just Noctis and Nyx. Or whatever their names might be in their new lives.

Until then, he was happy to take what time they did have to make something of their previous interactions. It was like Nyx said, he had time.

“Alright,” he nodded, unable to help the grin that spread across his face at Nyx’s celebratory fist pump. “But fair warning: I’m kinda new to this.”

That didn’t seem to dampen Nyx’s mood. If nothing else, it only brought a glimmer of curiosity to his expression.

“Haven’t you been in a relationship before? The rags used to go wild over your little flings in high school,” Nyx smirked, confident and carefree. Noctis grimaced slightly at the reminder of those…flings. They were vapid as ever; a status symbol that his “partners” used to flaunt at their peers. Noctis had felt more like a trophy than a date.

“That’s all it ever was. Dad said I had to connect with my future council more and Specs—er, Ignis suggested that I date a few of them. It was never serious with any of them. Never went passed, uh… Well, I haven’t…”

Gods this was so awkward. He didn’t even know why he was bringing it up, but it poured out of his mouth all the same as if he was confessing something shameful.

Hell, maybe he was.

“What?” Nyx raised a coaxing eyebrow. “Kissed ‘em? Or are we talking something deeper than that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been kissed, I’ve just never…gone further than that.”

It was such a mortifying thing to admit. Noctis had never really cared much before because he’d never been one to put his business out there, so few people even knew. Still. At twenty, all he’d ever done was kiss his past flings. Beyond that, he’d never felt the need to push further. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he’d just never felt like it was the right time or with the right person.

Now it had him flushing a deep red. To admit this in front of the suave, natural flirt that Nyx was…

He felt like a little kid.

“Hey, there’s no need to get all embarrassed.” Right, because reassurance from someone like Nyx, someone who could get someone in his bed with naught but a wink and a smile, was helpful. Sure. “What, you think I’m gonna judge you over that? Noct.”

Nyx’s expression dropped into something simultaneously amused and frustrated. Noctis wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Did that mean he disappointed Nyx? Already? That had to have been record time.

“What? Don’t tell me I’m too old—”

“Oh please. It took until I was nineteen to sleep with someone for the first time. And let me tell you, it was gods-awful. I’m pretty sure no one’s ever been put through the walk of shame as hard as I had been that day.”

“Really? You?” Skepticism colored Noctis’ tone. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe everyone’s first time was perfect, but somehow Nyx seemed the type to at least have a somewhat decent one.

“Yeah, me. It took years and experience, and a lot of failed relationships mind you, to get as confident as I am now. And a lot of people wait ‘til they’re ready, Noct, you’re far from the only twenty-year-old virgin. Anyway, you think I care about that? We’re literally stuck inside a crystal for who knows how long so you can off yourself to save the world, and I’m supposed to rag on you over your sex life? _Please_.”

Well, uh…

Huh.

“I…wasn’t expecting you to be so…”

“Chill about it?” Nyx snorted at that. “Imagine shaming the Savior King because no one’s popped his cherry yet.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Anyway, I’m glad you told me because now I know what to expect later down the line. But seriously Noct? The only people who care that much about someone else’s virginity are nosy assholes. Don’t be embarrassed over your life choices.”

This was a weird talk. Like, completely out of left field weird. Yet somehow it’d lifted Noctis’ mood by leagues. Nyx did have a point; the only person who really cared about that was Noctis himself. Still, he hadn’t even expected to breach this subject now of all times. All Nyx had done was ask him out.

If it could be called that.

“So what are we then, if you expect that later down the line?” Friends with Benefits? A “Thing”? …Boyfriends?

“I don’t expect anything from you. But I would hope that you’d just accept the date and we can go from there. Not everything needs a label from the get-go, if at all,” Nyx said, shrugging easily.

He was so level about everything. It was refreshing, actually. Noctis didn’t feel like he was walking a tightrope, being watched at all times for any slip up. He didn’t feel like he was being evaluated, or scrutinized, or even held up on a pedestal. He just felt like a normal guy being asked out by another normal guy. A ridiculously hot normal guy who just so happened to be a complete badass, but he’d digress.

“Alright,” Noctis accepted, crossing his arms as a relieved smile played at his lips. Somehow, by just being himself, Nyx had managed to say everything right. If nothing else, he’d charmed the hell out of Noctis. But then, that was nothing new. They’d been playing the flirting game for more than a couple months now, after all. It was about time they’d gone a little further than just that.

“Yeah?” Nyx grinned, something jubilant and attractive, as his arms spread wide and his entire demeanor brightened considerably. “Doll yourself up and I’ll take you out for a night on the town! Catch you later!”

“That was cheesy as hell!” Noctis tossed after him, watching as he practically pranced away, laughing all the while.

Astrals, he was ridiculous. There wasn’t even a town to go out to, and this crystal realm was a gloomy facsimile of how dreary the world outside had become. Nyx was too enthusiastic over so little.

But Noctis would be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

~o~

**_ Cogitatio _ **

~o~

A particularly strong breeze tossed Noctis’ hair, limp now that he’d stopped putting product in it for the past couple years, and he couldn’t help the annoyed grimace that pulled at his lips as he pushed it out of his face for the umpteenth time. Stormy weather was afoot, a mirror of the outside world, and Noctis sent silent condolences to whomever happened to get caught out in that crap. He doubted the atmosphere, saturated as it was with starscourge, was all that kind to either the people or the wildlife out there. Having it get rained on them was more than likely to be deadly.

Within the crystal it simply meant a thunderstorm was rolling in. Noctis had seated himself on a balcony just outside the training hall, protected by an overhang of stone. Beyond, if he squinted enough past the dreary blue-grey of the morning, if it could be called that, he could make out warped, lifeless skyscrapers lining the horizon, and the ashen clouds behind them.

Yuck.

He was glad he’d never bothered to seek out his old apartment. He didn’t think he wanted to know what the rest of the city beyond the Citadel gates looked like up close. He doubted there was much of anything there anyway. Bahamut seemed to think all Noctis needed was the Citadel.

How typical of a god to not understand human needs.

“You look chipper.”

There was a mixture of amusement and annoyance in Noctis’ responding snort. He didn’t even bother to look back to see who addressed him. He recognized the voice well enough.

“About as chipper as you look each morning before noon,” he snarked back. It was rewarded only with a chuckle.

“Did Nyx tell you that? I would’ve thought he’d be too busy mooning about your eyes to think about anything else,” Crowe laughed. Ever since they’d been properly introduced, she never seemed to pass up a chance to tease Nyx or Noctis over their ever-flourishing relationship. It was harmless, though.

She, alongside the other kingsglaive—the ones that bothered to talk to Noctis at all—was refreshingly familiar with him, as if they were just old friends. Every once in a while they teased him with a “Your Majesty” or a particularly deep bow, but it was all in jest. There was no need for such things here, and Noctis had made that clear with all of them. He’d rather not be reminded of his duty every waking second. It was nice to be some semblance of normal in this most abnormal of situations. It was nice to banter with friends.

“I don’t need Nyx to tell me anything. I have eyes, you know,” Noctis snorted, rolling those eyes exaggeratedly. Crowe sat down next to him with a huff, laughing quietly when yet another breeze blew Noctis’ hair back into his face.

“And you expect me to believe you can see through that shaggy mop? You can’t tell me you’ve never heard of hair gel. You used to be drowning in it.”

He pushed it back with a click of his tongue and a long sigh.

He’d really just…stopped seeing a need for the gel. Before, he wore it for the sake of appearances. He wanted to look “cool”. All the movie stars and internet personalities had their hair gelled and styled in intricate ways. He knew better than to dye his, not unless he wanted to insult his entire bloodline, but he wanted so much to be a part of the in-crowd that he’d taken to gelling his own up as well. It’d worked. The Insomnian populace had taken note of his new style once he’d gone public with it, and it’d been the talk of the town for weeks. People would emulate his style, those same movie stars and internet personalities included, and it’d sent such a rush of validation through Noctis that he just never stopped.

It was a bit embarrassing to think back on, actually. He’d never liked being _too_ front and center in the public eye, but even he couldn’t deny that he was only human. Sometimes the attention felt good.

Now there was no Insomnian populace. There were no fashion designers and car companies clamoring for his endorsement. There were no paparazzi or fan clubs or tabloids. No one was looking at Noctis as an icon—not in the way they used to. Before, he was just the bratty prince concerned with appearances and the need to be taken seriously. Childish stuff.

Now he was a symbol of light. Of salvation. Vanity had no place here.

It all seemed like such bloated reasoning, but in the end that was just how it was. Noctis had no one to impress, so the hair gel was superfluous.

Perhaps Bahamut even agreed. It hadn’t escaped Noctis that the gel disappeared soon after he’d stopped using it. It’d certainly raised a few questions (Was Bahamut watching him? Did he only provide what Noctis wanted or needed in that moment? Did he hold his own opinion of Noctis? Would that affect what he gave or took away?) but focusing on such things had only given him a headache. Trying to understand the gods was like trying to drive the Regalia upside-down with his feet on the steering wheel.

“Uh… Eos to King Noctis?”

“…Huh?” He blinked in question at the hand suddenly waving in his face before turning his confused gaze on Crowe. There was a knit in her brow as she stared back.

“You just blanked out on me. You good?”

Oh! Shit.

He didn’t think he’d gotten that deep into his own thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine,” he sighed.

“Thinking about things?” she asked, leaning back on her arms in an attempt to bring back the casual atmosphere. Noctis rolled with it, letting a bit of a slouch into his posture.

“You know, with you I never know what _‘things’_ is supposed to mean.”

Crowe took the accusation with a loud bark of a laugh.

“I promise you, I don’t mean something lewd this time.”

“ _This_ time…”

Every other time she found a way to slip something suggestive into the conversation, just to watch Noctis’ ears turn red. He’d been enjoying his relationship with Nyx for nearly as long as he’d been inside the crystal and it wasn’t exactly a secret. Not even the more private aspects.

“So what _did_ you mean?” Since it, apparently, wasn’t _something lewd_.

“You tell me,” Crowe shrugged. “You were thinking it.”

It was an easy gesture. So relaxed and inviting; a clear sign that her words were an invitation and not a demand. Noctis had every chance to back out of this situation.

Being scared to talk about it wasn’t going to make it go away though.

“I was just thinking about home. My real home.”

The one that, unlike this distorted imitation, was currently in ruins in its dark, daemon infested isolation. The one that used to be teeming with life and light. Reduced to ashes and rubble.

“It’s gonna be a bitch going back,” he concluded succinctly. There was no softer way to put it. All those memories, all those good times, even all the bad… All of it washed down the drain in this damned eternal night.

“I’d say ‘life’s a bitch and then you die’, but as you can see, dying’s just as bad.”

That drew an unexpected bout of laughter out of Noctis; one that Crowe joined in after a few seconds. It was so ridiculous that he couldn’t help but find it funny. How unbelievable that Bahamut had thought this was okay.

Deep down, Noctis was grateful for the company. But he still couldn’t deny how wrong it was that these souls were stuck here, unable to move on until he fulfilled his duty.

His duty, his duty…

It always came back to that.

His laughter died down as he started to sober up, face muscles loosening as his smile drooped into something more subdued.

“Guess it’s on me to fix that once I get back then, huh.”

A smaller, humorless laugh met his ear, and he looked over to see that Crowe’s expression mirrored his as she pushed her own wayward locks out of her face.

“It is. Sucks that this is all on your shoulders, but that’s just how it is.”

Destiny. That’s what it was. Fate.

Noctis had to do this because he had no other choice. These people were counting on him. The whole Star was counting on him. His dad, Luna… Prompto and Gladio and Ignis…

They were counting on him.

“Then I’ve gotta do it.”

Crowe remained quiet for a moment. Expressionless. It was almost eerie as it started to drag out, and Noctis hadn’t known her long enough to be able to tell what it meant. Yet when it passed, it was replaced with an inexplicable joviality that caught Noctis completely off guard. If not for the direction their conversation had veered in and her silence after, Noctis wasn’t even sure if he’d have been able to call it the mask it was.

“Yeah? Well, tell Libertus I said hi when you get back,” she grinned, cuffing him on the shoulder. Noctis tried not to flinch at the force of it, instead raising a curious eyebrow at Crowe for both the sudden mood change and the name drop.

“Libertus? Another Glaive?”

Crowe nodded, eyes wistful as the focus faded from them.

“You’ll know him when you see him. Won’t shut up about me being ‘like a sister to him’. I can bet he’s spent this whole time moping. Might need a friend.”

Noctis couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at that. Surely she couldn’t have expected…

“You want that to be me? You know that won’t work, right?”

“Why? ‘Cause you’ll die?” Crowe spread her arms wide, challenging Noctis’ statement with a firm set to her brow. “So did we, but look where we are.”

“Trapped here, unable to move on,” Noctis sighed. He sat back, turning away from Crowe as his arms wrapped around his knees. Letting the imitation of a breeze ruffle his lax hair without resistance this time. Hoping it might hide the sadness in his eyes. The guilt.

“I don’t know how it is in Galahd. But in Lucis, those not ferried to the other side are considered cursed. Forgotten by even death itself,” he continued.

“What, like… _scourge_ cursed? Or…?” Crowe trailed off, waiting for an explanation for something that, to Noctis, was like the back of his hand. His family wasn’t exactly the shining beacon of piety, but everyone in the upper echelons of Lucian society knew the scriptures.

Noctis knew a lot more personally what sort of curse immortality truly was. He’d started to even pity the man who suffered it.

Not that he hated Ardyn any less. But he could at least understand his suffering. In Lucis, death was peace. It wasn’t meant to be feared, nor celebrated. Merely accepted.

There was no acceptance or belonging here. No peace. This crystal was a prison, and the illusion of peace was only a shimmering blanket over a rotting corpse. It was sobering to consider.

“Don’t worry about it,” he concluded instead. “I’ll get you guys out either way.” He had no choice in the matter, after all. Might as well find something to believe in. Something to die for.

Bringing the sun back was a reward he’d never get to enjoy, so this was the only incentive he had left.

“If you say so…” Crowe mumbled, tone awkward at the returned weight to the atmosphere. Best to lighten it back up again before she started asking uncomfortable questions.

“And okay, fine. I’ll tell Libertus his ‘not-little-sister’ says hi.”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one.”

Another punch was aimed at Noctis’ shoulder, one he dodged deftly, before jumping to his feet as Crowe reared up for another attack. Blue sparks flashed when she made a grab for his ankles, followed by taunting snickers as she pitched forward. This was why he liked Crowe. Though she could sass as hard as Specs and Aranea combined, she wasn’t afraid to let loose her playful side.

Kinda like Nyx, actually. Noctis could see how they were such close friends.

His own would probably be the same way. Letting him talk his issues into their ears before they offered their two gil. Their reactions might range: a serious back-and-forth with Specs, or a consoling hand on his back with Prompto, or a round of brotherly advice and maybe a cheering up spar from Gladio. They were such different, vibrant people, and yet when they and Noctis all came together, they could work miracles. They’d fight daemons and monsters and Astrals, only to turn in for the night in a dinky tent on a haven, joking and laughing and flipping through pictures as they prepared for the next day’s adventures. Noctis wondered if they still did these things without him there. He hoped they did. He hated being left out, but he didn’t want them to drift apart. They’d need each other once he was… Once he…

He missed them. He _would_ miss them, once this was all over.


	2. Oriens

**_ Aevum _ **

~o~

“Remember when we were young?”

Noctis raised an eyebrow at Nyx, expression bland as he tried to puzzle over whether he should have been offended or not.

“Speak for yourself.”

Granted, Nyx was technically dead. Noctis, despite his entrapment in the crystal, was alive and well, and thus he aged normally. Nyx hadn’t aged one bit. Souls had no reason to; there was no flesh, no bone, no sinew. He felt like he was there, still warm and solid and vibrant, but his body was long gone by this point. A pile of bones, more than likely.

That was, if even his bones survived the flames of the Lucii’s wrath.

Either way, Noctis’ point still stood. No one was old at thirty-two.

Even if Noctis wanted to tease Nyx over it a little.

“Hey, I’ve still got some spark in me!” he argued, _pouting_ of all things as he pinched Noctis’ hip in reprimand.

“Then what the hell are you on about?” Noctis snorted.

“I’m just reminiscing is all. Back to the days when it was just simple flirting, and fun and fast cars, and freedom. Yeah, we had our responsibilities, but we still got to be just…us.”

“Right… Back when you were the resident show-off of the kingsglaive,” Noctis said, nodding along and trying only half-heartedly to hide his smirk.

Nyx was easy to pick on.

“Uh huh. Back when you were slightly more bratty than you are now.”

“Back when you used to chauffer me around the city and I’d have to talk the police out of giving you speeding tickets because you thought you were being cool.”

“Back when you were gangly and cute and couldn’t grow facial hair for the life of you.” At that, Nyx scratched lightly at the beard on Noctis’ chin, earning a chuckle out of him. It’d started to finally stick once he’d hit somewhere around his mid-twenties, and now in his late-twenties it was full enough to be comparable to his father’s.

A lot of people had compared him to his father looks-wise recently. Something about it was bittersweet. For all the push and pull he’d gone through with his dad, Noctis had never stopped looking up to him. He’d never stopped loving him. To realize how much more he resembled him as the years went by left both a warmth in his heart and a pit in his gut.

Damn, he wished he’d said more when he’d left. Wished he’d stopped brushing his dad off for some phony road trip.

Gods, though, here he was ruining a date by getting down in the dumps over past regrets.

“…You alright?” Nyx asked, having caught on to Noctis’ dampened mood.

“Yeah, I just…” He had a lot to say and didn’t know how to say. “I’m just remembering when we were young. That’s all.”

“Hmm.”

Nyx was silent for a moment, regarding Noctis with a pensive look as he leaned against the balcony railing. It was no wonder he’d found Noctis so quickly; it’d become a favorite spot for him to think in peace these past few years. Few bothered him, few had a reason to, but Nyx always joined him eventually. Usually it was in comfortable silence, but he’d seen fit to reminisce aloud this time.

Noctis wondered if he’d been planning something.

“Seems like you need a distraction,” Nyx continued, crossing his arms and tapping his bicep thoughtfully. Head turned back while his eyes scanned the skyline, though they seemed unfocused as whatever was on his mind simmered.

“Can’t imagine what we’d do that we hadn’t already done.” After all, there wasn’t much to this old, familiar building. Noctis had grown up in it, had known all of its nooks and crannies, and had walked the halls often enough that he could navigate with his eyes closed. Whatever distractions Nyx could think up, odds were he and Noctis had already experienced them. It’d be hard to take his mind off of things by simply following a routine.

Though Nyx seemed to have something far different in mind, judging by his next words.

“What’dya say to a trip into the city?”

“That hellscape?” Noctis snorted. He’d never bothered to set foot outside the Citadel, even after all this time. There was nothing but darkness out there, bleak and draining. No inhabitants roamed the city, no lights illuminated the blocks, no cars traveled the streets. There was just nothing.

“What would we even do out there?”

“Wanna find the old arcade you used to waste your high school years at?” Nyx shrugged, prompting Noctis to squint at him. He’d never even interacted with Nyx until after he graduated.

“How the hell did you know that?”

Grinning, Nyx tapped at his temple as mischief played in his eyes.

“I’m psychic.”

“Bullshit. Who told you that?” _Someone_ had to have. Noctis didn’t think any of the kingsglaive even knew what he looked like before he was out of high school. How in the hell would they know where he used to hang?

“Gladiolus told me,” Nyx admitted rather quickly in response. It was said with a sheepish tone, as if he was caught tattling on someone.

Someone who’d tattled on Noctis.

“What the hell.” Noctis was gonna chew Gladio’s ear off once he got out of the crystal just for that. He didn’t need his father’s entire guard to know his business. The crownsguard already knew enough.

“Oh don’t get all twisted up about it,” Nyx continued, waving off the grimace that had started to form on Noctis’ face. “It’s not like I couldn’t have figured that out just by watching your daily routine.”

“That’s called being creepy.”

“That’s called being safe, _King Noctis_.”

‘King Noctis’ rolled his eyes so hard he nearly saw the back of his head.

“Whatever. We don’t even know if the city expands that far.”

“Only one way to find out.”

—

Which was how Noctis found himself finally leaving the familiar safety of his birth home, venturing out into the wild as if he was a small child again.

The first time he’d left the safety net of the Citadel, he’d come home comatose, lame, and covered in his nursemaid’s blood. It was difficult not to compare this moment to that; the idea of stepping out into the unknown beyond the castle walls.

It wasn’t quite so bad with Nyx at his side, and logically Noctis knew that he wasn’t really in danger here in the crystal. Yet still he couldn’t shake the chill from his spine or the eerie feeling that settled into his bones. The feeling that something was watching them, waiting for them to take the wrong step or wander into the wrong shadow. The feeling Noctis got in the middle of the night when daemons were nearby.

Some date…

“Ah,” Nyx sighed, inhaling and exhaling deeply as if he was breathing in the cleanest, freshest air. How laughable. “Gotta love the smell of adventure.”

It smelled like industry. It smelled like metal and warm asphalt and air pollution. There was an odd undertone to it too, like it was manufactured in a chemical plant. Something that made Noctis think of Lestallum and hazmat suits and glowing green tubes. It smelled kinda gross, honestly.

“I can’t tell if you’re high off the fumes or if you’re fucking with me.”

“What do you think?”

Cheeky bastard.

“I think I hate you. I’m going back.”

Noctis turned on his heel, halted only by the warmth of an arm wrapping around his waist and the brush of air against his ear as Nyx chuckled against his hair.

“Don’t be such a wuss, Noct. It’s not like something’s gonna jump at you out here.”

“I know that. I also know there’s nothing out here worth this so-called ‘adventure’,” Noctis huffed, pinching at Nyx’s bicep to get him to let go.

No sale.

“C’mon. Seriously.” Nyx turned to face Noctis then, expression serious as his voice dropped into a low tone. A near plead. “We’ve spent how many years wasting away in that hunk of metal? You could be pulled back out of this rock any day now. At least try something new with me while you’re here.”

Noctis wanted to point out that his own city wasn’t exactly _new_ to him. He wanted to mention that he knew these streets like he knew the back of his own hand. He knew exactly which paths to trail to take him to his old apartment, his old job, his favorite hangouts…including the arcade. He knew where all of the community centers were, where all the schools were. He knew the government buildings so well he could track them down faster than his phone’s GPS. He knew which neighborhoods were what, which suburbs were known for what, what kind of people lived in them, etcetera. If the crystal’s false Insomnia covered the entirety of Cavaugh, he could probably walk the entire landscape from memory alone.

But Nyx had a point in that Noctis hadn’t done much more than train in the past few years. By now, going out into the city was such a foreign concept to him that it might as well have been new.

“Alright, fine. We’ll make it an adventure,” Noctis shrugged.

“Sounds good to me. I could go for an adventure,” Nyx smiled in response, earning a shove from Noctis.

“Obviously, since _you_ dragged me out here.” Vehemently, at that. “And since when did you like adventure anyway?”

“What? I’ve always loved adventure. A sense of danger, y’know? A chance to show off my skills.” A wide grin punctuated Nyx’s spiel, squinting his eyes and pulling at his cheeks. A well put-on show.

Noctis knew better.

“Yeah, you’re a showoff alright. _In a fight_. Not an adventure.”

“Am I that obvious?”

Sighing, Nyx stretched his arms as he walked, turning his gaze to the indigo glow of the sky, shining in pockets between gray clouds. He slipped his hands into his pockets then. Voice low when he spoke again.

“My sister, Selena… She _loved_ adventure,” he started, capturing Noctis’ attention immediately. Rare was the day Nyx brought up his family. Not when thoughts of them brought him so much pain. “I used to wander into caves with her when we were young. We’d marvel at the wildlife and collect the funny rocks. Sounds boring to you, I’m sure—”

“It’s not.” Noctis understood, after all. He’d always liked to sneak out of the garden to go exploring without having someone’s eyes on him for at least a moment.

“…Hm.” Nyx had raised his eyebrows at Noctis, surprise shining in his eyes as he waited for Noctis to elaborate. He didn’t bother to, instead waving for Nyx to go on. This was his story, after all. And Noctis wanted to know more.

“Well, anyway, we always went out of our way to find new things. Explore every nook and cranny that island had to offer. And at night, we’d sit on the hill outside our house and watch the lights from the city across the ocean. Always in awe at how beautiful Insomnia looked, even from so far away.”

“You weren’t worried about daemons?”

“Nah, after King Mors pulled the barrier back, he had floodlights installed in each village to make sure we wouldn’t suffer daemon attacks. Plus there were a few havens around. Not as many as mainland Lucis has, but clearly past oracles hadn’t forgotten our little island.”

“Hm,” Noctis parroted, nodding along as his gaze returned to the road in front of him. He really didn’t know much about Galahd. Though the city before him was this alien recreation, cold and desolate and _off_ , he still knew what street he was on. He knew that if they kept going straight, they’d end up at the junction between downtown and the Vesperway. A little further, they’d end up at the Caelum Via. Down the strip, all the expensive shops lined the road until they ended at the largest bank in all of Eos. Even further and they’d be in the heart of the city. The Citadel might have been the center, but everyone knew the heart was where all the traffic went. All the business and the fun.

Insomnia was its own little bubble, and Noctis had never thought to look beyond it until he’d gone on that road trip. He knew the most basic things about the territories beyond Cavaugh; he’d met with the governors of Leide and Duscae and Cleigne, he’d discussed the politics and helped fund the expansion of Lestallum. It was gil he was sure was being put to use now more than ever to ensure the powerplant kept the lights on. He’d read about Galahd in books and seen its culture through television. Nyx was a firsthand account of a society Noctis otherwise knew the barest minimum of.

He’d only learned of it from Nyx in bits and pieces. His family was a sore subject and Noctis knew to let Nyx bring it up on his own. Prying would only get him to shut Noctis out. So, he waited. Nyx could continue if he wished or the subject could change. For as much as Noctis wanted to know more, he wasn’t going to step on toes to get that information.

Instead, he held out his hand. It was a signal for Nyx to continue if he wished, but Nyx took it as an invitation to link their fingers together.

“You want to hear more?” he asked, squeezing Noctis’ hand in an anxious gesture. Noctis hoped his squeeze back was taking as the reassurance it was meant as.

“As much as you’re willing to say.”

A snort immediately followed.

“You’re cute, you know that?”

“Shut up! _Yes_ , I want to hear more.”

“She would’ve liked you,” Nyx continued, grinning at the annoyed blush that heated Noctis’ cheeks. He’d have thought pushing thirty would quell those sorts of reactions, but it seemed some quirks never really went away.

“Would she?” Noctis could never really tell. He’d be told someone would “like him” and it’d just mean they’d bow their heads reverently and stutter praises at him. Occasionally, he’d run into someone who treated him as a person. _Occasionally_.

“Hell yeah she would. She’d get a kick out of teasing you.”

It seemed Selena fit into the latter category.

“Wow, yeah that’s appealing,” Noctis snarked, though he couldn’t quite help the grin that spread across his face. He would have liked to have met Selena when she was still alive.

Hell, once this was all over, he’d probably meet her anyway.

“Both her and mom. They’d have sat you down at the table… Selena would’ve pried all the Crown City gossip out of you. Not for anything bad, but just so she’d have gossip fodder with her friends. Mom would’ve stuffed you full of all the good foods—and yes, she would’ve made you eat your vegetables.”

That earned a grimace from Noctis that sent Nyx into a small laughing fit.

“Look, King Pouty,” he chuckled. “Her food was amazing! You’d have enjoyed every bite. And don’t worry, I’d have told her to hold the carrots.”

And then a fond eyeroll followed. Noctis nudged Nyx lightly as humor softened his ire.

“Besides, one look at you and mom would’ve piled all the meat she could on your plate as well. She’d be sure to put some muscle on your skinny ass.”

“Hey, I _got_ muscle—”

“—‘You just can’t see it’,” Nyx mocked. “Yeah, whatever. My point still stands.”

“No one asked you, asshole.”

Not that Nyx cared, judging by his renewed laughter. Even after placing a placating kiss on Noctis’ temple, he wasn’t quite forgiven.

Bah! He could think what he wanted. Noctis was strong enough to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

No matter how heavy it got.

“Maybe not, but still. She’d have taken care of you. And not as a prince, just… Just as you. That’s just _who she was_ …”

Nyx trailed off into silence, letting a somber mood settle in. Their footsteps became the only sound, echoing loudly against the asphalt in the middle of a quiet district. They hadn’t quite made it out of the flashy part of town, if it could be called that with all the lights turned off, so they likely wouldn’t get to Noctis’ apartment without it getting dark first. He could see the arcade sitting innocently in its store front, filled with dozens of machines tucked behind a concession stand and a mini pizzeria. He could almost close his eyes and imagine it in its prime. The golden light of evening shining through the windows, accompanied by the loud cacophony of activity around him. He was a regular, and arcade goers had learned to get used to the sight of their prince hopping machines with his best friend, pretending to be oblivious to the odd crownsguard lurking inside the building. If it wasn’t just outright Gladio tailing him. Conversations bounced from topic to topic around him, joined by the pinging of video game sound effects and the grainy recorded voices of announcers, blaring countdowns and fighter names. The smell of pizza and fries constantly filled the place, fresh every day and familiar enough that Noctis found it to be a comfort. He’d swap places with Prompto often, alternating between eating and attempting to hold the controls in greasy fingers without slipping up. All his frustrations were drowned in the illusion of freedom and normalcy he’d created for himself there. The illusion of being a normal high school kid going to a normal high school before spending time at a normal arcade in the middle of the city. Never mind that he went home to assignments sent via Ignis from private tutors. Never mind that he frequently visited the Citadel to train and practice magic and sit in on council meetings. Never mind that he often made decisions and contributions that affected not only the city, but the rest of Lucis (even if only minimally considering the imperial presence that plagued the land). And this was his father going easy on him; he doubted he’d have even had that freedom if his dad was…

If he’d really intended Noctis to rule, rather than to die.

Eyes squeezed shut, he waited for the spots behind his eyelids clear as his expression relaxed. It wouldn’t do to give into those thoughts. There was no changing fate. No stopping it. Dwelling on it would only tank what good mood he’d managed to build up over the last few years. Better to look ahead than to linger on the past. The ache in his eyes passed as the last few memories that had played through his mind slipped away.

He opened them to Hell.

At least, that was as best he could describe the crumbling leftovers of his home. He took in every broken structure, every fracture in the street, every burnt, decrepit car. The gnashing of metal against concrete scraped against his eardrums, accompanied by the groans and shrieks of daemons. Where skyscrapers once stood, rubble now occupied. The arcade was gone, wiped away in the midst of Niflheim’s attack, and the buildings around it were in varying states of disarray. Some equally as destroyed while others clung to their now warped, damaged existences. No people walked the streets, no chatter filled the air, no cars honking or advertisements blaring. No lit streets and bright billboards. No neon signs and street performances. The people who were unfortunate enough to be in this part of the city were either skeletons buried under rubble or daemons now. The ones who had been evacuated never had the chance to come back for their dead, not with the blockade at the bridge. What lingered now was evil hiding in the shadows. Stories that never had the chance to be told, nor the opportunity to flourish. All of that was taken away in that attack. Taken from _his people_.

His fists were clenched. He was sure he was squeezing Nyx’s hand a little too tight now. More than certain he was being observed. Possibly even worried over.

Shaking his head, he willed the vision away as he attempted to regain control of his heartrate. It pulsed in his ears frantically, pulling an ache to the center of his forehead he fought with himself not to rub at. Eventually, it would go away, as fleeting as that vision had been. As painful as it too.

Sturdy, familiar buildings greeted Noctis when his vision cleared. Still swathed in darkness, but whole and untouched nonetheless. A fake of the old Insomnia. A comfort to distract Noctis from the fact that what he’d just seen was likely the current state of his city.

It enraged him. It saddened him. It _disturbed_ him. Deeply. This was what the Empire had done to his home. This was what Ardyn had done.

He didn’t want to be out here anymore.

“We should head back.”

“Done exploring?” Nyx asked softly, confirming aloud what he already knew. Noctis tried not to shiver from the chill that crept over his skin when he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s go back.”

Nyx understood.

He knew trauma. He’d been trapped in his own mind before as the past plagued him as well. Stuck watching silently as all of his failures, all of his regrets, played back to him. He’d come out of every episode with shaky hands and sweaty skin, and he’d refused to talk for the rest of the day afterward. Being a soldier, he’d learned to prioritize his thoughts so that they wouldn’t hinder his capabilities, but the bad ones never really left. They’d never stop clouding his mind when he was most susceptible to them.

So he stayed silent when Noctis suffered the same. He offered his support through warm arms and calm breaths. Nothing needed to be said because no spoken word would ever help. It’d never make this stop.

But he understood and he _stayed_ , and that meant more to Noctis than any empty condolence ever would.

They walked the streets in comfortable silence, hand in hand until they reached the Citadel gates. Nyx only let go to instead wrap an arm around Noctis’ waist, lightening his tone to something playful to try and disperse the gloomy atmosphere that had lingered over them during their walk back.

“Home, sweet home. See? That wasn’t so bad…”

Nyx was still talking but… Noctis could barely hear him. It was like trying to listen to him through water, compounded by the nauseating way his vision started to swim. It was happening again?

No. This wasn’t quite the same. This wasn’t a memory turned into a nightmare. This had nothing to do with him, in fact. This was a time of old, long before he’d ever came to be. This was a dark, ancient castle. A relic of the past amidst a wall of stone, surrounded by buildings that looked like they might have been in style two-thousand years prior. A message meant to be heard. Just like…

“Noct?” someone whispered his name from far away. Noctis paid it no heed.

Footsteps quiet, controlled, hypnotized, Noctis instead walked towards the castle before him in awe. In reverence.

The crystal was before him, just beyond the throne. The walls surrounding him were obsidian, glittering with splendor and draped in House Caelum’s colors and coat of arms. A long rug covered the pathway to the throne, splitting the gathering of court attendees and nobility. In the middle of it, a man with hair black as the long night and eyes gleaming with fury stood, bloodied sword drawn, above a couple huddled on the floor. The man’s face was covered with waves of long, dark hair, but Noctis didn’t have a doubt as to who he was. Not as he wept in a familiar voice, calling out the name of the woman he clutched to him. Hair of gold and clad in white, Noctis couldn’t stand to look at her for too long. She brought back flashes of images to Noctis’ mind that he didn’t want to see again. Images of pain. Water and rage. Altissia being ripped to pieces as Leviathan’s voice rang in his ears, vicious and spiteful. Luna falling to her knees, clawing at her side as red ran between her fingers—

“You alright?”

Noctis blinked and the image dissipated, replaced with the looming silhouette of the Citadel, tall against the city’s skyline and foreboding as its height reached the dark swirl of clouds above it. Like something out of a nightmare.

The image was broken up when Nyx moved to stand in front of Noctis, glancing over him with a worried expression before placing his hands on Noctis’ shoulders. Ready to shake him out of whatever reverie he’d found himself in now. There was no need.

“I had a dream last night, you know,” Noctis explained quietly.

Nyx waited patiently, holding his tongue in lieu of making any sort of remark. He knew Noctis was being serious about what he had to say.

Noctis was grateful. He wasn’t quite sure how to begin, but he knew he had to say something. What he dreamt was…too eerie for words. It’d left him dazed and moody, coaxing Nyx into taking Noctis aside for their lighthearted reminiscing earlier.

“I saw everything. And I mean _everything_ ,” he started. Nyx still said nothing, only motioning for Noctis to go on.

“The conception of Lucis, the war of the gods, the choosing of the first king.” Noctis saw an Ardyn dressed in simple clothes, resting in a golden field of wheat with a woman at his side. A woman with equally golden hair, draped in that very same purest of white. The Oracle.

Ardyn’s betrothed.

Noctis saw a rush of the ground underneath him, heard the bustle of soldiers in plate armor, and smelled the acrid smoke from dozens of burning bodies. Noctis felt a pain in his heart as he held that same woman in his arms, smile wiped from her face as red stained her once white dress. Felt a hatred towards the man who killed her.

It burned in him for two-thousand years, all the while Lucis flourished under the rule of Somnus Lucis Caelum and his descendants. One by one, Lucian kings rose to power and fell from it, replaced by a new king. Over and over, the cycle continued until Noctis found himself standing before a glowing pair. A man and a woman, both with dark hair and light, kind eyes, stood close with a baby in their arms.

Noctis looked down at himself, so small and defenseless, and couldn’t describe the feeling that bubbled in his chest. Was it regret? Pity? Sadness? He couldn’t place it. He didn’t know if he wanted to.

The dream dragged on for millennia and yet Noctis awoke the next day to find himself no older than he’d been the previous day. Life continued on outside the crystal, bleak and desolate and bathed in neverending darkness, but it endured nonetheless. That couldn’t have happened in two-thousand years. Noctis experienced all of that knowledge within a single night.

It was frightening. He had a feeling this meant something…not good.

Not good for him, at least.

“I think it’s a sign,” he concluded, leaning against the railing with an ache in his brow at the frustration that had scrunched it up. Nyx reached out and smoothed it away.

“A sign that you’re going back?” he guessed. He was spot on.

“Yeah. I get the feeling I won’t be in here much longer.”

It was a miserable, regrettable thing to dwell on, but Noctis couldn’t ignore it. He’d been in this crystal for longer than he’d expected, and eventually it’d have to come to an end. He’d have to brave a ruined world, defeat the pitiable man he’d seen in his dream, and bring the sun back. He couldn’t do that from the safety of the crystal.

How cruel of Bahamut to leave Noctis with these regrets. Sure, he spent the last few years growing as both a man and as a fighter, but now he had something he needed to leave behind. Something precious.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to go?” he asked.

Fingers threaded again through his own and a pair of warm lips were pressed to his forehead this time, comforting and familiar. Nyx sighed into Noctis’ hair as he squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“Not at all, Noct. That’s what makes you human.”

Right. Noctis would have to hold that statement close.

After all, the more he became the True King, the less human he felt.

~o~

**_ Amantium _ **

~o~

Bahamut came to Noctis early in the morning.

Three days. Noctis had three days before he’d wake. Three days before he’d go back to Eos. Three days before his final mission began.

He’d been practically tearing his hair out the entire day.

Not that many people could tell. Noctis had long since perfected his poker face, and subsequently almost no one had even noticed anything was wrong with him throughout the day. He’d suffered his internal conflict in silence, greeting every trapped soul with a smile every morning as usual and trying his hardest to convince himself that it was real. That he was glad to be setting them free.

No, but of course he was glad for that. Anyone would be.

He just…wasn’t looking forward to the means that the end would justify.

It had him on edge, teeth clenched as he willed himself not to bite at the inside of his cheek, and muscles tight as tension creeped along the sinew, spreading slowly over him like a cloak. He hated the feeling. Hated that he let this get to him the way he did. All this time he’d had to make peace with his fate, but it was still so difficult to accept that he was throwing his life away to help a two-thousand-year-old monster rest.

He pitied Ardyn. But that did not mean he forgave him.

Nevertheless, Noctis knew if he sat dwelling over the news alone in his room, nothing good would come of it. The second guessing would start, and soon he’d find ways to convince himself to drag the ordeal out, and despite his feelings over the matter, the people of Eos— _his_ people—did not deserve that.

Better he calmed himself with company. He knew just who would fill that void too.

He sent for Nyx.

His answer didn’t take more than ten minutes. Noctis’ door creaked open with nary a knock or even a cleared throat, spilling artificial light into the room before dimming again with a click. Nyx let himself in easily, having long since been given permission to enter at a whim. These days it was technically his room too, after all. He certainly slept there every night. This room was a comfort for him as much as Noctis, so it was unsurprising that he started to drop pieces of armor as he stepped forward, dressed only in cloth by the time he stood before Noctis. A sign that he wasn’t going anywhere. Good. Noctis needed that reassurance.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Noctis started, pausing as he considered where to go from there. Or rather, _how_ to go from there.

“About whatever Bahamut said?” Though, thankfully, or maybe not depending on how one saw it, Nyx seemed to be on the same page.

Thankfully, yes, but also surprisingly.

“How did you…?” Noctis trailed off, raising a confused eyebrow at Nyx. He earned a snort in return.

“Noct, the gods are the size of mountains. It was kinda hard to miss him.”

He…had a point.

“Oh. Well, then yeah. I wanted to talk to you about what Bahamut said.”

Understanding crossed Nyx’s expression then, settling deeply in his eyes until they were dark with remorse. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t aware of Noctis’ destiny; he’d known for _years_ and had all that time to prepare. Still, that didn’t mean he was unaffected by it.

Slowly, silently, Nyx slid his glove off. Noctis’ eyes followed the movement with quiet curiosity, running a number of scenarios through his mind that might explain where Nyx was going with all this.

Those thoughts scattered when Nyx reached out to run his fingers lightly over Noctis’ chin, skin brushing his facial hair so lightly that the tickle sent a shiver down the length of his spine. Such gentle, inquisitive touches… Nothing so heavy or suggestive that Noctis would get the wrong idea. Not that he could deny that he wanted to. He’d rather have any other idea than the one plaguing him. The one forced upon him. The one decision that wasn’t his to make.

This was his duty as _King_.

He hated that.

“What’s on your mind?” Nyx asked. Practically whispered, in fact. A quiet coaxing of Noctis’ thoughts to be put into words.

“You know what,” Noctis sighed. It didn’t really have to coaxed out of him at all. Nothing had to be said; Nyx already knew what was coming. Everyone here did.

“Yeah? I wanna hear it from your mouth.”

Nyx was looking for communication. It didn’t matter to him _what_ was said, only that it was. That didn’t make this any easier to Noctis though, not with the looming knowledge of his slowly approaching death hanging over him. Not with the knowledge that every single person in this faux-Citadel received just as premature a death. The fact that the only way to free them, to free everyone from this decade-long Hell, was for Noctis to die. He wished he _could_ speak. He’d pour his heart out, scream it to the heavens if he could.

He opened his mouth to speak…

Nothing. Nothing would come out.

Noctis wasn’t often at a loss for words. If he had nothing to say, then nothing would be said. But this…

He couldn’t begin to describe what he was feeling. How desperate that feeling was; how it clawed at his insides until he was nearly sick with it. He could explain the utter bleakness of what he knew was creeping up on him faster than he was prepared for. It’d felt so far away a goal until he was suddenly here, now, watching his own death approach with each rise and fall of that artificial sun. A blessing he knew the world outside no longer had. An eternal night he soon had to end.

It was a sacrifice he was willing to make. That didn’t mean he was prepared for it.

No. He wasn’t prepared for any of this. He wasn’t ready to die. _He wasn’t ready_.

He didn’t want to. He had to, but he wished there was another way. If he could find even the slightest loophole, he’d tear his way out of this fate.

That was the sort of thing that happened in fantasies though.

In a few days…all of this would end. Everything would end.

How did one walk towards their own death?

“With their head held high.”

Jerking out of his reverie, Noctis raised a skeptical eyebrow at Nyx. He hadn’t realized he’d asked that out loud, but he’d received an unfavorable answer nonetheless.

“Easy for you to say. You’re already dead.”

It was a petulant response. The sort of thing Noctis knew better than to say by now. Still, it slipped out. He was frustrated, understandably so. Not everyone was so proud to die.

Lips pursed, Nyx committed to cupping Noctis’ jaw, stroking a thumb over his cheek as he considered his response.

“You’re right. It is easier for me to say now. Ten years ago I’d have gone out with both middle fingers up at the gods. Hell, I wouldn’t have even accepted it so easily if…”

“…If?”

Sighing, Nyx pulled Noctis closer to wrap his free arm around him and press a kiss into brushed back hair.

“If it wasn’t so personal.”

Personal? That was unexpected.

“Tell me what you mean.” He all but demanded it.

“You’re still a brat,” Nyx chuckled, pressing yet another kiss to Noctis’ head. He didn’t pay the comment much mind, too interested instead in what Nyx meant.

“Look, you know the whole shebang about how I grew up. Where I came from and what I came into,” he continued. “I’m not gonna get into all of that again. But you also know I took my job seriously. More than my job; that was my whole life. Noct…”

Nyx’s voice took on a more serious tone then, lower and quieter as he met Noctis’ eyes. Their foreheads pressed together, the world around them falling away until there was nothing but them. No sound penetrated their bubble, instead making way for Nyx’s emotion-laced words.

“The people I trusted most turned against me. The life I lead was never going to be the same. It came down to Us versus Them and there wasn’t a whole lot of ‘Us’ left. Regardless of my feelings on Lucis and Insomnian politics and the like, I owed your father my life. So imagine what it did to me to have to watch him die in front of me. To know that the man who killed him was, like me, a Galahdian in service to the crown.”

Wincing at that, Noctis pulled away and turned so that Nyx couldn’t see his face. Unwilling to let him watch Noctis’ expression crumble, his jaw tremble, his eyes shine with tears he refused to let fall. It played out in his mind like a dream: the city burning, the old wall fighting, the empire invading, his father falling. He knew he made peace with this; just _knew_ it. It still hurt. He knew he’d see the aftermath of it all once he was back home, and he didn’t know how he was going to handle that.

“Noct, c’mon. Don’t block me out like that,” Nyx sighed. Despite the distance, it was still just them. Just the feeling of fingers trailing the length of Noctis’ arm before lacing with his own. Just the warmth of Nyx’s breath against the nape of his neck, and the heat of his body standing close behind.

How funny, considering what Nyx said. Noctis couldn’t block that man out if he tried. Nyx was _everything_ in this bubble of theirs.

“I’m not, I just—” He didn’t want to hear it though. He didn’t want to know the extent of the suffering his loved ones experienced. He already had enough ammo against Ardyn. Anything more would break him.

“I’ll spare you the gory details. But what I’m trying to get at is,” Nyx continued, stepping impossibly closer. It was intimate, this meeting. Despite the subject matter, Noctis couldn’t help the goosebumps that erupted over his skin. The want to lean back until they were fully pressed together. Just that contact was enough. “I had something for myself to fight for. I had someone to protect and someone to avenge. I had a home to defend. And so do you.”

“That’s what you’re getting at? That I should die proudly because it’s personal for me too?”

“Better than nothing,” Nyx shrugged.

Ha. How encouraging.

“You’re shit at this ‘cheering up’ thing.”

“I tried.”

“You’re right. You tried,” Noctis nodded, grinning a bit.

It didn’t really help as much as Nyx probably thought it would. In the end, regardless of what Noctis was dying for, he was still going to. His last moments in that world would be brief and dark and violent, and nothing would change that fate.

He had to do it, though. There were no excuses, no alternatives. No delay.

Noctis would wake up and then he would cease to be.

He couldn’t even enjoy the reward for his efforts. One couldn’t watch the first sunrise in years from the grave.

“If that doesn’t help much,” Nyx continued, having caught on to the shift in Noctis’ mood. Still trying to cheer him up as he gripped Noctis’ shoulders and turned him back around. It was endearing, at least. Noctis could spare a smile for it. “Just know that once you’re done there, we’ll be waiting for you. You’ll have set us free.”

That was…

“You’re really digging your heels in here, huh?” Noctis laughed humorlessly. Of course Nyx would go for that angle next.

After all, he knew it’d work.

Noctis wasn’t going to leave these souls trapped in the crystal any longer. They, like anyone else, deserved a chance at an afterlife. A proper one. Maybe even a rebirth, when the time came. They couldn’t have that stuck in here. It was only a twisted facsimile of their previous lives, and there was nothing beyond this faux citadel and the twisted cityscape surrounding it. It was a cage.

“If it’ll get you to stop moping. I don’t want you to die either. Damned if I don’t want you to live a happy, fulfilling life. There’s so much of your life ahead of you that the gods robbed you of and _it’s not fucking fair_.”

“But I don’t have a choice.”

“You don’t. It sucks, but you really don’t. You wanna know how someone welcomes death? They don’t. No one ever really walks towards death because they want it. Pushed to it, maybe. Unable to escape it, sometimes. But we’re born to _live_ , Noct. That doesn’t change the fact that at the end of it, whether we like it or not, we all have to die.

“But the beauty of it is… Maybe there’s something worth dying for. Maybe there’s something on the other side. You were dealt a shit hand, but that doesn’t mean you have to wallow over it. So you tell me: are you going out feeling sorry for yourself or are you going out with your head held high?”

Not the sort of pep talk Noctis had expected, but Nyx had a point. It was up to Noctis whether he put his whole being into this or whether he was dragged kicking and screaming into it.

Frankly, he’d kicked and screamed enough when he’d been dragged into the crystal. He had enough of that.

“Do you even have to ask?”

Nyx grinned at that, something wide and proud and beautiful. Noctis couldn’t help marveling over it.

“That’s what I like to hear. That’s my Noct…” Nyx trailed off, running his knuckles lightly over Noctis’ cheek and earning a wry smile in return.

“Oh? I’m _your_ Noct now?”

That grin widened coquettishly. Noctis reveled in it; in the fact that it was for him. That Nyx could look at him and call him “his Noct”. Even after all this time, it still made his heart race.

“Does that mean you’re ‘my Nyx’?” he asked, voice lower than intended. Huskier. Suggestive.

“You’re damn right I am,” Nyx murmured, pressed close until his forehead was against Noctis’, eyes dark and lidded and wanting.

“Considering the subject we were just on, I’m surprised you’re suddenly so interested in this,” Noctis chuckled, taking note of the hand that had shifted behind him before cupping the curve of his ass.

“What can I say? Impending doom and destruction gets me hard.”

“No, the chance for you to show off in said doom and destruction gets you hard.”

“Same difference.”

Noctis couldn’t help laughing at that.

“Whatever, Hero. All I called you in here for was to talk. You getting off to weird shit wasn’t the plan.”

“What, you’re saying this wasn’t a ploy to get into my pants?” he chuckled. Noctis shoved at him with a roll of his eyes.

“It wasn’t,” he lied. In a way, it was. He wanted Nyx to talk him out of backing down. He wanted Nyx to tell him everything would be fine afterward, because it _would_ be. Noctis would die and save the world and everything would be _fine_. He wanted Nyx to hold him, to touch him. To love him while he was still alive, while his heart still beat strong enough to appreciate that touch. But he couldn’t help bantering about it, either. It was more fun, more lighthearted, to tease a bit. “But if you don’t want to then fine. Go back to whatever you were doing.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey. I didn’t say all that.”

His grip tightened, earning a pleased hum from Noctis. Interest clouded his mind in a sugar-sweet buzz, dimming the room around him until his world centered on Nyx’s eyes. Beautifully sky blue, focused and lidded and wanting. His voice was hypnotic as he continued to whisper against Noctis’ lips.

“Don’t send me away. You wanted some comfort, right?”

“I want more than that.” It was meant to be jokingly petulant. A quip to continue the banter.

It came out almost like a prayer instead. A plead. He never considered such intimacy with Nyx to be something as base as mere comfort. In these moments, Noctis bared more than just his body. He bared his soul. He bared his heart. He placed everything into Nyx’s willing and open palms and trusted, _expected_ , him to take care of what he held. He was never let down. Not once.

In this place where souls lingered, still human and vibrant and tangible by the magic of the crystal and the will of the gods, there was no need to hide. No need to lie. No nerves or hesitation or second guesses. No need to feel embarrassed or ashamed. Noctis allowed himself to feel loved here. To be loved. Physically.

Nyx was an attentive lover.

He spoke no more, opting to press his lips to Noctis’ fully instead. Hands explored, leaving trails of heat in the wake of experienced fingers. A feeling that, no matter how many times they did this, Noctis could never quite get used to. Those touches slipped beneath his clothes, the simple set of a button up and slacks, donned purposely for the sake of being removed with ease, and Noctis couldn’t help the shivers that ran over his skin. The tingles that ran up the length of his spine. His fingers clutched into Nyx’s uniform, tugging at the fabric until Nyx pulled away to start shedding articles. One by one they created a pile of cloth on the onyx carpet, joined by Noctis’ own clothing until they both stood before each other flushed and nude.

Few words were spoken, forgone for the sake of sultry kisses and needy touches. Lips pressed against every available stretch of skin, sucking red reminders over throats and collarbones. Fingers wrapped around heated flesh, stroking they were both trembling. Noctis didn’t want it to end with just that, though. Not tonight.

He sat back on the bed, reaching out to pull Nyx to him, coaxing his glaive to join him. Turning over in hopes of making it clear what position he wanted to be in. Having already cleaned himself before calling for Nyx, Noctis was willing to let him take care of the lube. Even if it was a bit too slow for his liking, and the shock of cold fingers had earned a jolt from him, prompting a chuckle out of Nyx. Even when his body ached for more and he impatiently clicked his tongue. Nyx gave him a smarmy “patience, Your Majesty” while he thrusted his fingers slowly, and Noctis was torn between glaring at him and begging for him.

He never got the chance to.

Nyx slid into him with reverence, gripping his hips with tight, quivering fingers. He leaned over Noctis with praises on his lips and spoke them into Noctis’ skin, joined by warm, absentminded kisses. He moved languidly, rolling against Noctis like a wave might ebb and flow over shore. Slow and gentle, sweet and perfect. The sounds of springs creaking joined quiet slaps of skin and breathy moans and sighs, steady in tempo until the pleasure started to ache. Noctis reached back, gripping Nyx’s hair tightly, mumbling his needs against his sheets, and Nyx indulged him with a quickened pace and an indulgent hand, stroking Noctis to completion. He followed not long after, shuddering and groaning Noctis’ name. Pressing kisses to Noctis’ palm where his hand had slipped from Nyx’s hair.

It was perfect.

Regardless of words, no matter how encouraging they were meant to be, nothing made Noctis feel better, safer, or more loved than being wrapped in Nyx’s arms, floating on the sensation of orgasm in the afterglow. It made the more…unpleasant thoughts of the future easier to ignore.

Though in the end, he could never forget.

“It might be a little while before I see you again,” he sighed, turning in Nyx’s arms until they were facing one another. Tucked tightly into an embrace he never wanted to leave. But he had to. Eventually. “I want to say goodbye properly.”

Nyx ran his fingers down the length of Noctis’ spine, slowly and tenderly. Chest rising and falling with steady breaths as a strong heartbeat pumped rhythmically against Noctis’ ears. It wasn’t with life, but with spirit. It was familiar and comforting. It was home.

Right now, it was as soothing as the light touches along Noctis’ back and the soft, reassuring words spoken against his scalp.

“You’re worth the wait.”

~o~

**_ Oriens _ **

~o~

The world was cold. Bleak.

The sky was a near pitch-black, sunless and desolate, and it reflected in a barren land. The plant life devasted, the wildlife absent, the atmosphere void of any vibrance. The only light on the horizon emanated from miscellaneous daemons dotting the landscape. Even the water was lifeless.

Noctis had woken up to a shell of a world.

The idea that he could reverse this much damage was almost inconceivable. Sure he’d bring back the sun, but after ten years? He almost felt that it was too late. Starscourge had infected Eos with a sickening viciousness and left behind something tainted and feeble. Destroying it and its source wasn’t going to magically make things right again. And Noctis wouldn’t even get to be here to try and help salvage _something_ out of this nightmare.

Damn the gods. Damn them for all of this. His friends, his people… Everyone was suffering because they let one man run rampant on revenge.

“This is unbelievable, huh boy?” he sighed. Umbra peered up at him briefly before licking his chops and returning his attention to the ruins that were left of Galdin Quay. Noctis wasn’t sure how much he understood, but he knew better than to believe Umbra was behaving like any other dog. There was something he was looking for. Something important.

“Is this your way of telling me to suck it up and keep moving?” he asked. He almost wasn’t serious, but… Umbra peeked back at him once more before taking off, leaving Noctis flabbergasted as he tried to force his body to move through the confusion.

Seemed they weren’t wasting any time here. Noctis ran past daemon after daemon, not slowing for a second until he was on the road. He was tempted to see if he could fight his way through, at least in the hopes that he’d put some of those daemons out of their misery. There was no turning them back, after all, and they’d be dead with the sunrise anyway. Still, that’d take too much time and energy to be worth it. If he could save some of that stamina, he could make the most of the Ring moving forward.

Besides, a memory came to him. One equally fond and frightening. A memory of searing pain and burns running the length of his arm.

He knew logically that the Ring would respond to him properly outside of the crystal; he’d used it before with only the more typical ill effects and he wouldn’t be able to fulfill his duty without it. Yet he couldn’t help the apprehension that kept him from utilizing it.

There’d be a time and a place for it. Noctis was thankful that wasn’t now.

Instead, a new opportunity made itself known to him. One he figured he should have expected. There’d be a few places he’d reasonably show up in once he left the crystal and while Angelguard was far from his first choice, it wasn’t completely off the mark. If his friends wanted him to meet them in Hammerhead then they’d be sending people out to keep an eye out for him.

So when the truck coming towards him slowed, Noctis had a feeling it was doing so for him.

Only one way to find out.

It came to a halt just ahead of Noctis, headlights glaring to the point where he had to squint even without standing directly in front of it. Walking around the truck, he found himself peering into the cab curiously, wondering who it was that came to pick him up. It couldn’t have been one of the guys; they’d never have approached him so quietly. So cautiously. They’d have known it was him immediately and they’d have greeted him loudly. Possibly tearfully. At least, he hoped he wouldn’t be the only one sniffling. He doubted it was Cindy or Aranea either. Cindy would’ve showed up in her iconic yellow truck, honking for him to “hu’ry his ass up”, and Aranea would’ve skipped the wheels entirely. Possibly Iris? But she’d have been just as loud as the guys, Noctis would bet. At the very least, she wouldn’t have waited for him to finish squinting through the window to figure out who she was. This person was instead cautious, slowly peeking their head out until they were bathed in that same brilliant light. And Noctis, to his surprise, found himself face-to-face with an unfamiliar young man.

Or so he thought.

“It’s me, Talcott,” the young man who was clearly too old to be Talcott said. “…My grandfather served the Amicitia family?”

But there was no way…right?

It made sense if Noctis actually stopped to think about it. He’d spent years in that crystal, learning and training and growing. He’d celebrated his thirtieth birthday with the crownsguard and the kingsglaive that didn’t hate his guts. He _knew_ how long it’d been, but it didn’t truly hit him until now. It didn’t sink in until he realized the child that he’d last seen staying in the old house in Caem with Iris and Cor was now an adult. Sporting adult sideburns and an adult voice and driving a truck like any adult would.

This was the screwiest fucking thing he’d ever seen in his life.

Logic should’ve won out when he got in that truck. Should’ve told him to calm down, because of course Talcott would grow up in a decade. Anyone would. Hell, Iris was twenty-five now, and that was mind blowing all on its own.

But it still hit like a cinderblock to the gut when Talcott told him it’d been ten years. Life really, truly went on outside of that crystal in this bleak hellscape for _ten years_.

Holy shit.

Noctis was stunned into near silence, and as a result the car ride with Talcott was awkwardly quiet and conversation was sparse. Noctis wasn’t really sure what to say and Talcott seemed to need to occasionally interject the silence with nervous chatter. His voice was steady, but he’d never been much of a rambler from when Noctis had known him. He’d been a well-spoken kid, excitable as any child but reserved enough from the lessons Jared taught him.

This Talcott next to him, grown and dressed in frayed casuals, driving a truck that served more as protection than a vehicle, felt like a stranger. Even the cactuar statuettes lining the dashboard felt like a relic from a dream rather than a set of memorabilia. Memorabilia that Noctis himself had given the boy. It barely felt like the connection it was.

It didn’t really seem to hit Noctis that any of this was real until they reached Hammerhead. Until the three figures illuminated by the headlights started to look familiar to him. Tufts of yellow blond hair and gloved fingers pushing up square-rimmed glasses and arms sleeved in tattooed feathers. The little differences stood out, like the fact that there was a sunny blond goatee to match the hair on Prompto’s head, or the fact that Gladio had grown his hair out until it had to be pulled back to stay out of his face, or the way Ignis’ jaw had sharpened to the point where he looked more like his uncle than he did the pictures of his mother that Noctis remembered seeing.

Regardless, there they were. All three of them.

Noctis might as well have been hit by the truck he was currently sitting in, clutching at the seat as he tried to hold on to reality.

He thought it’d hurt to leave the safety of the crystal, and to leave the people in it behind. It didn’t hurt quite like this.

Noctis was euphoric and distraught all at once. It was as if something had grabbed hold of his heart and started slowly squeezing.

He nearly forgot to breathe.

“Your Majesty…?” Talcott’s voice broke Noctis out of his daze, and he turned his head to nod his reassurance. Despite how unready he was.

Opening that truck door was like letting reality come rushing back in. The hum of flood lights filled his ears, alongside the engine of the truck and the rustle of feet. Voices joined next. Noctis damn near cried at the sound of them.

He stepped out carefully. Slowly. The scrape of asphalt beneath his shoes, the feel of the wind blowing his hair out of his face, the smell of gasoline and metal…it was real. It was _home_. He was _back_ , well and truly. He looked to his friends with as much awe as they watched him with, all four of them trying to convince themselves that this was happening.

There were so many words at his lips. Tugging at the tip of his tongue, demanding to be spoken. Screaming inside his head and bubbling up in his throat, and he had to open his mouth or he might explode before he could say—

“Hey.”

It was…well, it was anticlimactic, but he could’ve said worse. He could’ve turned into the blubbering mess he was starting to gear towards.

“‘Hey’?” Gladio grunted, ire mixing in with the disbelief in his expression. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

It was asked with a playful shove, one that Noctis didn’t bother to dodge. Ten years ago it would’ve annoyed him, but now? Gods he was so thankful for it now. For some normalcy.

“Noct… It’s you! It’s really you!” Prompto exclaimed next, still getting over the strange and unreal reality that Noctis was indeed standing in front of him. Still trying to pick his jaw up off the floor. It was…sort of funny, honestly. Noctis couldn’t quite help the snark from slipping out.

“Is it? I hadn’t realized,” he snorted. He basked in the grins that it brought to his friends faces.

“Well, well. You kept us waiting.”

Though Ignis’ words brought him hurtling back down to Eos. As much as Noctis wanted to prolong this moment, to savor it, he had a duty to fulfill. Waiting around wouldn’t do anyone any favors. It’d only leave the rest of the Star to suffer even longer. A fact that would haunt Noctis the longer they took.

He went to pat Ignis’ shoulder, though for his reassurance or Noctis’ own, he couldn’t begin to say.

“Not like I wanted to,” he told Ignis, finding himself frustrated at the situation the more it sunk in. He’d never regret the time he spent in the crystal, but he couldn’t help but regret the _amount_ of time it took. “We’ve got catching up to do.”

“Let’s head inside.”

They did so with goals in mind. The three had crownsguard uniforms to don and Noctis owed his lineage and his crown the respect of going down in his royal raiment. He’d woken up in Angelguard wearing his old fatigues after all, and while they were handy and sturdy, they wouldn’t quite do for this next and final battle.

Besides, their subsequent trek to the Crown City could at least be done in style.

It was an amusing thought that stuck with Noctis, even as they started out on the road. On foot, because the hunters had no cars to spare and the Regalia was, unfortunately, still in Gralea. The guys had hitched a ride with Aranea’s crew when they left and no one bothered to go back for the car. Rightfully so, considering the flood of daemons that infested the city.

Still, it would’ve been useful right about now. Hammerhead might’ve looked like it was “just down the road” on a map of the world, but it was a long enough walk that they’d ended up camping for the night.

Just like old times.

“I’ll make something nice for tonight. A celebration meal, if you will,” Ignis said, though his tone was muted. Noctis knew better than to challenge him, not with how determined Ignis could get. Being blind certainly hadn’t hampered his fighting capabilities, not these days from what Noctis had seen out on that road, so there was little doubt he hadn’t gotten cooking down pat again. And he had a point, anyway. A nice, celebratory meal would keep their spirits up. Keep them going. They’d need that energy once they reached Insomnia.

The scent of warm food started to drift through the air over that campfire. Seasoning and the smell of fresh cooking meat. A delicacy in these dark times. Ignis was going all out, it seemed.

“Been a while since we did this,” Gladio laughed, though it was short and humorless. Words grunted between the exertion of setting up the tent and pulling out supplies. Accompanied by the growls of daemons lingering just beyond the haven.

“Been a while since we were all together like this,” Prompto added.

“Yeah,” Noctis nodded along, not missing the fact that his friends had likely all seen each other much more recently than they’d seen him. “Talcott mentioned that you guys stayed separate more often these days.”

They were quiet at that. At first.

“Wouldn’t have been the same,” Gladio finally replied after a beat of silence. He stood, stretching and sighing before looking over the fruits of his labor. A perfect tent. Noctis wouldn’t have expected any less.

“Indeed it wouldn’t,” Ignis agreed. “Besides, we all had our own affairs to attend to. People don’t remain static after a decade. Not even you, Noct…”

Noctis felt their eyes on him then, though he didn’t dare meet them. Didn’t want to see what they’d been through knowing he’d never been a part of it. That he’d left them behind.

“There is something kinda different about you, now that Iggy mentions it,” Prompto said.

“You’ve grown, Noct. I can’t see it, but I can hear it in your voice.”

“Specs…”

“You’re ready to take the mantle as king.”

Silence once more. Almost like reverence. He didn’t like it. Noctis didn’t want to be the Chosen King to his friends. His brothers. He just wanted to be “Noct” to them.

“It’s about time, I guess,” he attempted to joke. It felt flat. “But I’m still me, despite it all.”

“Heh.”

Blinking in surprise, Noctis finally peered up to see Gladio grinning at him.

“Still scared of carrots, I bet.”

“Probably wants a hotel room with a bed and some games. Don’t blame ya, bud. I’m right there with you,” Prompto chuckled.

“Yes well, if he doesn’t eat these vegetables I so painstakingly cooked for him, he’ll be the one setting up the next tent,” Ignis tutted. He did so with humor.

“Hell no he won’t. I ain’t sleeping in some half-assed attempt at a tent courtesy of Princess Lazy over here,” Gladio huffed, arms crossed.

“I think it’d be ‘Queen Lazy’ now, Gladio,” Prompto ever so graciously added.

Noctis couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up in his chest. He couldn’t help when it spilled over, leaving him bent nearly in half as he held his stomach. Those familiar snipes seemed so far away, as if from a dream, and yet the four of them had fallen so smoothly into routine that it was like Noctis never left. Like he was still twenty, going to bed with food cooked over flame that they’d hunted the day before, flipping through the photos Prompto took and bickering over petty shit until they eventually tired themselves out. They’d wake up the next morning ready for adventure. On a mission, yes, but it didn’t stop them from taking in everything Lucis had to offer.

That wouldn’t be the case this time, of course. But he couldn’t help but imagine it. Couldn’t help but close his eyes and see blue, open sky and feel the wind on his face in tandem with the purr of the Regalia. The voices of old friends filled his ears, be it a pit stop at Hammerhead so Cindy could coo at the car while Cid sent them on excursions, or talking to Dave at Meldacio in order to find a hunt, or running into Sania and the ever present croaking of frogs that surrounded her, or taking Iris with them on a chocobo ride. 

Damn he’d miss that. He’d miss _this_.

“Don’t tell me you guys waited ten years to bitch at me some more,” he laughed, soaking in the sounds of their own mirth.

“With you, Majesty, there’s never a break,” Ignis grinned.

“Yeah, Your Royal Pain in the Ass. Just got back and already we’re helping you run your errands,” Gladio huffed, grabbing plates from Ignis to pass around. They tucked into their food with vigor, energized by the jovial conversation.

“To be fair, this errand helps all of us,” Prompto defended. Noctis quirked a smile, reaching over to punch his arm lightly.

“Knew there was a reason I liked you.”

“Damn, and here I thought it was because of my gorgeous eyes.” Prompto jokingly batted his eyelashes then, only stopping when Gladio reached over and shoved him.

His statement brought to mind another pair of beautiful blue eyes, squinted in amusement and shining with love. Noctis pushed the thought away. Not now. He wouldn’t be able to focus if he let thoughts of Nyx bleed in now.

“Nah, it’s because I could rely on you to do all the talking,” Noctis said instead, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, like a toady,” Gladio smirked.

“Is that all we peasants are worth to you rich people?”

“Just about, yes.” Ignis’ tone was as dry as the desert surrounding him, but Noctis knew him well enough to catch the teasing in his quip.

“Iggy!”

Ha. Ignis said people don’t remain static, but…

“You guys haven’t changed much.”

Gladio chuckled at that, leaning back in his chair with his gaze to the sky. Still clouded with starscourge and too bleak to marvel at, but they had to work with what they got. They’d see the stars again soon enough.

“Maybe you bring out the best in us,” he suggested. Ignis, smiling, nodded along.

“We are together again, after all. All here and accounted for. Things have changed, but we’re still the team we always were.”

A heartwarming thing to hear from Ignis. Noctis would carry it with him when it was his time. He hoped they would as well.

“It’s just weird to think that you’re really back. You’re really here,” Prompto sighed, tipping his head back until it was rested against the back of his chair. His posture was relaxed, his expression serene…but something about his tone seemed off. Something about it was somber. Scared, almost.

“Of course I’m here,” Noctis reassured tentatively, not quite sure how to react to this underlying tension. He didn’t know what to make of it.

“I used to have nightmares, you know. Still do, actually…” Prompto trailed off. He didn’t even acknowledge what Noctis had said, so lost in his own world. “Used to wake up hearing you scream. Used to close my eyes and watch the sun fade away. And it’s still gone when I open them.”

“Hmph. ‘Having’ nightmares. We’re _living_ in a goddamn nightmare,” Gladio grumbled, jaw clenched as he watched the fire.

Noctis didn’t want to imagine the memories behind that statement. The pain. He couldn’t begin to fathom what his best friends had been through for the last ten years. What they fought, what they suffered, what they lost. He couldn’t believe it, but he almost felt _guilty_.

Ignis and Gladio and Prompto had become survivalists. They knew how to scrounge for food, where to find clean water, how to keep to the light and when best to pick a fight. They’d become so coordinated that they were perfectly in-synch, checking over supplies and maintaining their weapons well. With Noctis there, they could just pull fresh ones from the armiger, but it’d hit him hard when they told him they didn’t _need_ to. They knew what they were doing because they were forced to live this way just to make it to the next day.

What was Noctis doing? Sitting pretty? Yes, he trained every day and he trained damn hard, but he did it all within the comfort of Bahamut’s fabrication within the crystal. He didn’t have to worry about food or water or danger. He didn’t have to worry about making sure his source of light didn’t go out when he least expected it. He had everything he needed when he needed it. Pampered ‘til the end.

He felt like shit for it.

“What’s got you so down?” Gladio asked.

Ten years ago, Noctis would’ve easily been able to voice his thoughts. Gladio had long since been a shoulder to lean on, even when he could be a bit insufferable about it. He still listened, and that was what mattered.

Now? Noctis didn’t dare speak his mind. It was such a petty thing to be concerned about in the grand scheme of things. Besides, it wasn’t like he could turn back time. He couldn’t take the bad experiences away. Only hope to give them good ones in the future. Without him.

Damn. That hurt worst of all.

“It’s nothing, I just…”

A ragged breath in. Then out.

He still hadn’t told them. He needed to. _Should_ tell them. Now, before—

Before he lost the resolve…

“I just…” he tried again. Voice quiet, chest aching. They’d have no more chances after this. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

They listened. They learned of his time in the crystal, of the training he endured and the souls trapped there. He didn’t tell them of his shared love with Nyx. That would be his to keep close to his heart. But they knew of everything else. Including who and what Ardyn really was.

Including what Noctis had to do.

The four of them were wiping at tearstained faces by the end of it. They went to sleep quietly, huddled close in the tent in one last attempt to cling to one another. Words were left unspoken, even when they woke the following morning. The day long trek to Insomnia was silent; a silence only broken when they finally stepped foot in the city and saw the wreckage for themselves. Battles were tense, friends were found—including Cor, who Noctis was immensely pleased to learn was still alive—gods were called upon, and goodbyes were spoken.

Noctis used the Ring for the first time in ten years. It responded so smoothly to him that he didn’t even feel discomfort using it. It was his _by right_. As was his throne.

Ardyn had no place upon it.

That night, Noctis fought Ardyn with all his being. With all the power of the Thirteen Kings. Rid of his mortality, he destroyed the shadow of the betrayer in the Beyond. And his soul passed in the aftermath.

The sun rose on Eos the following morning.

Noctis was almost afraid of what his friends would find once they entered the throne room. He was afraid of their reactions when they eventually discovered his body. They’d shed their tears around the campfire and said their goodbyes, but it wouldn’t really sink in until they were pulling the Sword of the Father from his chest. Until they were burying him in his designated tomb; the last tomb any Lucian monarch would be laid to rest in.

He knew he’d be shattered if it was him burying one of them. No amount of goodbyes could prepare him for that pain.

He sent all of his well-wishes to them. Hoped they lived a good, long, prosperous life. Hoped they’d rebuild the world without crystals or empires or gods hanging over them. Gladio would get married and Prompto would be free to start a career as a photographer and Ignis… Noctis wasn’t sure with Ignis. He’d make a damn good politician, but Noctis didn’t think he’d want that life anymore. It wasn’t guaranteed that he wouldn’t do it anyway, though. He was that kind of person, putting others before himself. Usually Noctis, but with him no longer there, Ignis no longer had to devote his life to one person. Either way, Noctis hoped he’d live the rest of his life out in happiness. He hoped they all did. Iris and Cor and Talcott and Cid and Cindy, and whoever else had lived that Noctis hadn’t gotten a chance to see again.

He hoped he wouldn’t see them again now. They all deserved to keep living.

However, he couldn’t deny that he’d found his own happiness in death. He found himself greeted by kind, familiar faces. Warm smiles and hugs. His father wrapped him up in an unforgettable embrace, followed by a mother Noctis had never met until now. Luna was next, arms tight around him as she whispered to him how proud she was. The former Lucii, now returned to their mortal forms, even if only aesthetically, bowed their heads and thanked him for ending everything. King Somnus in particular shed grateful tears for the relief that both he and his brother now knew peace.

The Citadel that Noctis found himself in now was still a facsimile. A shade of the real thing left behind in the living realm. But it was brighter this time. Warm and bathed in sunlight. Noctis left the throne room to feel the heat of it against his skin, closing his eyes as the calm and the happiness and the love settled in. It would be a good Afterlife. Times would come and go, generations would pass, he would eventually see his friends again, and when Eos decided so, their souls would be reborn.

Until then…

“Fancy meeting you here.” The words were accompanied with quiet footsteps and soft touches as fingers threaded through Noctis’. They brought an uncontainable smile to his face.

“You knew I’d be coming,” he replied, smile widening as his eyes opened to a sight he’d been longing to see again. A pair of glittering blue eyes and a gentle, gleeful grin. Skin smooth and tan, devoid of the white burn scars caused by the Ring. Whole and perfect.

“And you’re fashionably late. Just like you royal types. I thought I’d get stood up.”

“Nah.” Noctis pressed closer to Nyx, reveling in his presence, his warmth, his scent, his voice. Soaking it all in eagerly. “Imagine how it’d dunk my reputation if I did that.”

“Oh yeah, you’d be so unpopular. They’d stick you at the loser table and shoot spitballs at your head in class,” Nyx joked, winding his arms around Noctis.

“Worse. They’d take away my apartment and put me in constant meetings.”

“Yikes,” Nyx chuckled. He squeezed Noctis tighter. “Well, since your Shield is otherwise occupied, I guess I’d have to protect you.”

That sounded nice. Just the two of them, no worries or responsibilities. There were no council meetings, no enemies to protect Noctis from. Nothing but the memories of life before and the promise of life after. In the meantime, they had each other. It wasn’t such a bad deal.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


End file.
